


Shieldmaiden

by Star_trekkin_across_theuniverse



Series: Fallen Valkyrie [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:53:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_trekkin_across_theuniverse/pseuds/Star_trekkin_across_theuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eira and Loki were all set for their happily ever after. But can you live happily ever after when you've married the god of lies? Sequel to Fallen Valkyrie</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The wedding had been everything that a royal wedding should be. Ridiculously oppulent, too many guests, and too much attention directed at Eira. She found herself painfully self-conscious of her appearance, and the softness of her body sicne Leif made her think that all the eyes that were very much upon her were critical. Coupled with the small boy she went nowhere without, there was little doubt in her mind that people must think she had entrapped the younger prince into a marriage.

"You are over sensitive, Eira, and see slights where there are none," Loki reassured her from where he was stretched out on their bed, watching Leif explore.

"I have seen the way women look at me. As though I have tainted both princes. Twas not long ago I was known to be keeping Thor's company, and now I am married to you. Tongues wag, Loki," she sighed, folding the linens she used for diapering Leif.

"I will cut the tongue out of anyone who would suggest you are anything but the most virtuous and deserving princess in Asgard." His tone was black, and brooked no argument. Eira shook her head. Threats, as well meaning as they were, were not going to force the noble women of the royal city to accept her.

"Quiet your soul, Loki. It is not worth such rage," she reassured him. "We are together, as a family, which is as it should be."

He sighed heavily and laid a hand on her cheek. "Yes, my love, as always your cooler head prevails. We are a well made match."

Eira laughed, startling Leif, who was playing on the floor at her feet, determinedly unfolding each folded cloth. "I am uncertain that I can spend eternity cooling your temper, Loki. Perhaps you should learn to trust in the good of some people and not worry about the malice in others." She kissed his forehead and scooped up Leif in her arms, cooing over him. He was stumbling around the palace now, having found his feet mere days before the wedding, like a tiny warrior too much into his mead. He pushed against her, protesting against her kisses. She laughed again, and let him down carefully, placing him firmly on his feet. He staggered to the other side of the room, babbling the whole way.

Loki sighed. “I have lost a year of him. And you. I will never get that back.”

“A year of broken sleep, frayed nerves and soiled linens, Loki,” Eira soothed. She was well aware of what Loki had lost, and how quick he was to rail against the unfairness of it. She was growing to dread these melancholy turns of the conversation.

“Those moments are the ones that bind you as a family, Eira. And you shared them with Fandral.” Loki did not whine, or snarl, he merely stated the truth. But it hurt Eira regardless.

“Loki.” She was done going over the same issue over and over again. “Enough. I do not want to discuss this again. Yes, we lost a year as a family. Yes, Fandral was there. Yes, you missed twelve months of your son’s life. But we will never get that time back. It is time to look at the present and plan for our future, and our son’s future. Dwelling on what is past and gone will not make us strong together, it will just drive us apart. And we’ve only just begun, Loki. We have thousands of years ahead of us. What is one year in the grand scheme of life?” Eira was firm. Loki looked away.

“I am so used to being wronged, Eira,” he began.

“But you were not the one wronged in this situation, Loki,” she corrected, as gentle as she could manage. He nodded, and sat up, running a hand along her cheek.

“I know, love. I don’t deserve you, and perhaps it’s that knowledge that makes me dwell on what’s past. I fear that you will awaken to how little worth I have. And I will lose you. And my son,” he sighed.

“So live for today, Loki. And make me happy. Stop this talk,” Eira implored. “We are young, we have a healthy son. You are the prince of Asgard. And I am your princess.”

“And when you go a-viking again?”

“I will still be your princess. Your shieldmaiden princess,” Eira laughed. “The Allfather did not release me. I am well past being able to ride with my sisters. It is time I reassumed my wings.” Eira’s favourite Midgardian tale about the Valkyries was that she and her shield-sisters had wings. Truly they did, but their wings were only visible to the dead and dying, and not unfurled at all times, where they would become a bother and inconvenience. When she’d told Loki about it, he’d loved the image, and painted a portrait of her, wings extended, healing a fallen warrior. She’d hung it in Leif’s room, in awe of the secret talents she did not know her husband possessed.

“And should I die?” He teased. Eira smacked him with a pillow.

“I would weep as I carried you to Valhalla.” She threw her forearm over her brow dramatically and flopped down beside him. Leif climbed up on the bed and wormed his way between them, clinging to handfuls of both their tunics. Loki laughed, a rich baritone that warmed Eira’s heart. It was a sound that she lived for. Loki rarely laughed, and the relaxed sound was all the sweeter for its rarity. Leif squealed and climbed over onto Loki, proving that the lost year had no affect on the boy’s adoration of his father. Loki lifted him to his chest and carried him into the nursery. Eira could hear his low voice talking to Leif, and Leif’s cooed responses, which soon gave way to soft singing. Eira laid back on their bed and listened, not wanting to interrupt the quiet time Loki was taking with Leif. He was right, he had missed much in the year they were apart. And while Eira refused to accept the burden of responsibility for their separation, she still felt some guilt about keeping her son from his father.

She rolled onto her side, content, and was lulled to sleep by the sound of her husband soothing her son. She turned into his warmth without waking when he climbed into bed later.

XXX

Eira gasped and shot straight up in bed, her heart racing. She tried to catch her breath, but found she couldn’t. She looked around the room, disoriented. Loki was sprawled, arms and legs everywhere, on his side of the bed, lost to sleep. She could hear nothing from Leif’s room, but padded over and peered inside to reassure herself. The only sound was the gentle rhythmic sucking of his fingers as he slept. Eira took a deep breath and tried to loosen the tightness in her chest. She crept out into the hallway and padded down to the throne room, past vigilant Einherjar. Odin sat on the throne, motionless. He rarely slept at night. Eira dropped into a curtsey before approaching.

“You cannot sleep, child?” Odin flicked a glance at her as she settled on the floor beside the throne. There was always a stool to sit on, but Eira found it uncomfortable, and sitting at the edge of the throne offered her a place to lean her back. She only got away with such informality when there was no one in court.

“I woke with a start. My heart was racing, full of fear. Loki and Leif both slept on, undisturbed,” Eira explained. Odin nodded. One of his ravens landed on his shoulder and chattered in his ear.

“You haven’t felt the call in some time,” Odin prompted. 

“The call has never felt this,” Eira paused, looking for the right word, “demanding. The weight on my chest is painful.”

“Nevertheless, Huginn tells me there is war on Midgard. And it had been over long since you rode out. I would think that should you right out to Valkyriehús, you will find your symptoms subside.” Odin looked worn thin. Eira nodded.

“I suspect you are right, Allfather,” she agreed as she excused herself. She made her way back to her quarters and shook Loki gently to wake him. He groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“Eira, it is the dead of night, and I do not hear Leif,” he moaned.

“I have felt the call. It pains me it is so strong. I must go,” she whispered, leaning close. His arm snake around her and pulled her mouth against his.

“Be safe,” he murmured between kisses.

“Silly boy,” she chided. “A Valkyrie cannot die.”

“But she can be wounded and cut to the quick,” he reminded her, kissing her firmly one last time. He swatted her backside as she rose to leave.

XXX

Her armour was exactly where it had been left, over a year ago, after Brynhildr had forbidden her from further rides. Someone had been anticipating her return, however, as the rust had been scrubbed from it recently. It shone in the low candle light. Eira’s heart hitched in anticipation, but true to Odin’s theory, the pain had eased the closer she rode to Valkyriehús. The pinch in her chest eased completely as she pulled her arming tunic over her head, leaving her with just the nervous stomach of one who has not ridden into battle in too long.

“Eira! You have returned to us at last!” Kara threw her arms around Eira as she tried to fasted the buckles on the side of her breastplate. Eira laughed.

“When the call becomes a biting pain in your chest that makes you wish for death, it is time to answer it,” she explained. “The pain only eased once my arming tunic was on.”

“That’s a brand of magic I’ve never encountered, Eira. Have Loki check you for curses when you get home. I’ve never felt pain from the call.” Bryn gave her shoulder a slap in welcome.

“You’ve never ignored it, Bryn. I used to get pain before, it would get worse the more times I ignored the call” Eira explained. “But nothing on the scale of the pain that woke me tonight.”

“I am glad it has eased then. And I am glad to have you back. You have been missed. Particularly on Midgard, where they feel their prayers fall on deaf ears.” The was a little chastisement in Bryn’s tone. Eira felt guilty for a moment.

“It’s hard to remember how long a year must feel to them, who measure their lives in so few of them. It feels like yesterday that I was last healing their warriors,” Eira sighed. “But I realize now it’s been far too long.” She pulled her helm on, and headed to the stable, mounting Fleygur and circling around to the rest of the women. Bryn led them to the Bifrost and on to Midgard.


	2. Chapter 2

The acrid smoke from the war field burned at the back of Eira’s throat. She leaned over in her saddle and hooked the shoulder strap of a dead man’s armour to pull him across her lap, mud slapping of Fleygur’s flanks. Again and again, she repeated the motions, carrying the dead to Valhalla, restoring them at the gates and returning for their brothers-in-arms. It seemed to take longer than she remembered, but she had never had a small boy waiting at home for her to return, making her anxious to be done. She made note of where she sensed lives to be saved on the field and when the last of the dead had been carried away, she returned to the battle field once more, gleaning the field for signs of life. 

She dropped into the mud beside a fallen horse, certain she could feel the life force of someone. The field was muddy, and in this spot in particular, she was nearly mired down to her knees. She rolled the horse and heard the weak cry for help. A young warrior pinned beneath the steed. The mud tried to hold him, but Eira tugged and pulled, finally winning against the slippery muck. She placed a hand on his forehead and the other on his heart and probed for injuries. His leg was crushed, and if she didn’t mend it, the fat from the marrow would travel to his heart and stop it, too long after the battle to be considered for Valhalla’s halls. He had a deep gash to his arm, the muscle severed nearly to the bone. She worked quickly on that wound before moving on to the leg, for she realized if he bled out through the arm, her work on the leg would have been for nothing.

Once the bleeding on the arm was under control, Eira switched her focus to his leg, feeling her way through the muscle, pulling all the fragments of bone back together. When she was satisfied they had knit enough that he could be moved and treated by a Midgardian healer, she waved one over.

“His leg is delicate, and will need splinting. It will take weeks to heal. His arm will need proper bandaging, with cleansing compresses.” She waded through the mud to the next voice calling for help. It was a shieldmaiden, her helm knocked off, long blonde braid coated in mud, the spear that had injured her still through her chest. Her unfocused gaze cleared when Eira came to her.

“Are you here to carry me away or cure me,” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Eira laid a hand on her cheek.

“I hope to heal you. Rest, and let me work,” Eira assessed the wound and found the lung punctured. There was little blood, meaning no major vessels had been injured. She laid a calming spell down, knowing the magic she would have to work to heal the woman would be painful. Slowly, she inched the spear back, and as the wound became open, healed each tear in the flesh, through the lung, until finally, she’d worried the spear free. She offered the woman a draught to ease the pain. She turned to call a Midgardian healer, and found one looking over her shoulder.

“How could she have survived that, Eir?” The healer asked.

“The lung would have remained flat, unable to inflate. She would have tired over-easy, and found basic tasks too difficult. She would have become dependent on the community to care for her, but she would have lived,” Eira explained. “I can only heal those who will live. But those injured in these wars, they never really live again. They merely survive.”  
“We have lost many to these wasting wounds since last autumn.” It was an accusation. “Many had lost faith.”

“I never asked you to pray to me,” Eira dismissed the comment. “I heal because I can. When I can. But I have other duties that require my time as well.”

“I am sorry, Eir. Please, don’t forsake us again because I spoke out of turn.” The healer’s voice shook. Eira stopped bandaging the wound on the shieldmaiden and faced the healer.

“Sigrid, yes?” Eira paused. The healer nodded. “If I forsook the wounded and sick each time I was offended or questioned, I would never have anyone to care for. I was born to heal the sick, the wounded, the diseased. The Norns wrote it in my lifebook before I could walk. Time passes differently in Asgard. It did not feel as long for me as it has for you. And for that, I am sorry.” 

“I did not believe it was you. When you first knelt to heal, I thought I was wishing you here,” Sigrid explained. Eira laid a hand on her face.

“I am here. I will not leave again,” Eira reassured the healer. She was not much more than a girl, Eira realized, sad at how quickly Midgard expected their young to reach adulthood. Sigrid placed her hand atop Eira’s and smiled. Then, impulsively, she threw her arms around her, hugging her close. Eira couldn’t help but laugh. She extricated herself carefully. “I must continue to heal, Sigrid. I have other duties to attend this night.”

XXX

It had not been as long since she had served in Valhalla, but Jarni still crushed her to him when he saw her.

“I hear you are truly a princess now. Your shieldsisters, they will not tell the story, other than to say a grand wedding has occurred,” Jarni pulled her down to sit on a bench between him and their father. “Tell me of it. And of my nephew.”

“I am bonded. And wedded,” Eira admitted. “And your nephew just past his first year. He walks, nay, he runs. He squeals, he laughs. He is the most beautiful thing in all the realms.”

“And does young Thorsson have the look of his father, or does he take after our men?” Sigbjorn asked.

“I was not wed to Thor, Papa,” Eira spoke slowly. “My shieldsisters did not tell you the story because there was no cause to alarm or anger you when there was nothing that could be done. I am wed to Loki.”

Jarni put his tankard down on the table and narrowed his eyes. “And what did that trickster do to fool you into accepting his hand?”

“He loved me. He loves me.” Eira’s tone was firm. “And that is all you need take from tale, one year on from it. Our son is the image of Jarni, Papa. His hair is red as madder.” She changed the topic swiftly. Sigbjorn wasn’t diverted though.

“And is my daughter satisfied with the prince she has?” He asked. 

“I love him, Papa,” Eira reassured him. “And he has helped me harness my healing power, so I can be stronger.”

“I will bring about Ragnarok myself if I should hear he has wronged you, Eira,” Sigbjorn promised. Eira shook her head.

“Do not make promises you cannot keep, Papa. Loki is not easy to love. But I do love him. It is well.” Eira rose and kissed her father on the forehead. She squeezed Jarni in a gentle embrace and returned to her duties, meeting Bryn at the mead casks.

“You held your seat well today for someone who hasn’t ridden into battle in over a twelve-month. I was sure you would topple into the muck,” Bryn teased.

“How much did you lose in your wager?” Eira winked. Bryn laughed.

“I owe Kara a new hangarok. The wagering may have got out of hand.” The mischievous glint in Bryn’s eye told Eira there was more to the story.

“And what would you have won?” Eira was incredulous. A hangarok was hours of hand sewing.

“A saddle blanket.” Bryn grinned.

“I will be sure to thank Kara for having faith in me!” Eira laughed. Kara slipped an arm around her friend as she joined the women, kissing Eira on the cheek.

“I do have faith in you. I know dear Fandral worked with you on a number of things while you were in Vanaheim. I’m sure seating your horse was one of them,” Kara laughed. Eira shook her head.

“He was more concerned with how I held my sword. Regardless, that was months ago. I haven’t seen him since the wedding. How fares your romance?” Eira had that newlywed urge to see her dearest friends settled, despite how ridiculous it may have seemed had she said it aloud.

“His heart was in too many places. Fandral was,” Kara paused, searching for a word, “perfection. While it lasted. But we are too much alike, and I distract easily. There’s a remarkably broad set of shoulders that marched through Valhalla’s doors, not long after the equinox.”

“But that was only a sennight after we returned from Vanaheim!” Eira protested.

“Eira, it had run its course before he left to accompany you. It held on because we were apart, and could not end things,” Kara smiled. “Truly, we are neither of us sad about it, Eira. Neither of us are the kind that settle down.”

“Ah, but when young women are in love, they do want other young women to be settled in love as well, Kara,” Bryn teased. Eira tried to pout, but she couldn’t. It was as though she’d never taken time away from her calling, the way her friends welcomed her right back, laughing and joking with her. “Is it because I am an old hag that you do not try to settle me?” 

“Yes, you are so frightfully hideous, Brynhildr. There truly is no hope,” Eira tried to hold her face seriously and failed. Bryn offered her a cup of mead. The rest of the night passed in a blur. Eira fulfilled her duties with a happy heart, stopping more than once to reflect on how much she was enjoying herself. 

She crept through the door to the bedroom just before the sun rose, after being gone a full day. She crawled into bed and snuggled into Loki’s side. He rolled over in his sleep and held her close, not waking. 

XXX

“But Father, she was gone a full day!” Loki protested. Odin sighed. Eira could see the muscle in his jaw twitch in irritation.

“Loki. You knew when you courted her that she was a Valkyrie. You knew when you set up your deception that she was a Valkyrie. You knew throughout her courtship with Thor that I had no intention of releasing her from that duty. So why would I release her now, merely because my other son is wed to her?” Odin asked.

“Because we have a son to raise, and he needs his mother as much as he needs me!” Loki yelled in response.

“And he gets his mother, whenever she is not called to serve. My son, you wed a Valkyrie. And you wed a goddess. And you knew. No one tricked you.” Odin was remaining remarkably calm.

“But I have already lost nearly a year with her!” Loki was insensate to reason.

“The time of the gods is drawing to an end, Loki. Already, the Northmen pray to another. Those demands will be cut down soon. And they’ve conquered much land, which they need to settle and cultivate, lest they lose it. There are more peaceful times ahead. And so those demands will also be lessened. Eira will always have duties. But those are the very things that drew you to her. So why would you demand I make her cease the very activities that made you risk everything to love her?” Odin asked. Loki clenched his jaw and looked at his feet.

“Because I want her to myself. Just for a while,” he admitted.

“Eira is not your possession, Loki. She is your wife,” Odin sighed. “Be her husband. Respect her.”

Eira could not look at Loki while he fought with Odin, choosing instead to listen while watching Leif. She knew the conversation was over, and seeing that Leif was stalking Odin’s ravens, she scooped the boy up in her arms before one of them lost its patience with him, and pecked him.

“They know he means no harm, Eira. They survived both my sons,” Odin reassured her.

“Either way, Allfather, it is better to teach him not to torment them,” Eira curtseyed and excused herself from court. Loki came out of his sulk long enough to trail after her, but his mood was dark. “You are acting like a spoiled child, Loki.”

Leif was nuzzling her, sucking his fingers, and she laid him gently in his crib before returning to the sitting room. Loki stood, glaring out the window. He turned to face her.

“Refuse to answer,” he demanded.

“I was in physical pain last night, Loki. I am not going to hurt myself to pander to a spoiled prince,” Eira snapped. Loki’s eyes widened at the insult.

“You –“

“No, you don’t get to voice your displeasure again. I heard enough when you spoke to the Allfather. We have been married less than a month, Loki, and already you are making demands you knew would never be met long before we married. I am a Valkyrie. You knew that before you loved me.” She tried to keep her voice low. Loki slammed his fist into the wall, causing her to flinch.

“But you were gone a full day!” He protested.

“And sometimes, when the battles rage on, I can be gone for many nights!” Eira shot back.

“How do I manage Leif when you are gone for so long? He wept for you, and there was naught that I could do to comfort him.” His voice was gentle, barely above a whisper. Eira sighed and walked across the room to him. She took his balled fist, and worked her fingers under his, until it relaxed. She traced her thumb on the palm.

“Is that what this is about? You had trouble managing with Leif?” She asked. His shoulders slumped, and he met her gaze. His eyes were filled with unshed tears. 

“I want to be a good father, Eira. But I couldn’t comfort him. He wanted you.” The frustration and sadness in Loki’s tone made Eira want to cry herself. She stepped close to Loki, and rested her hands on his chest.

“You are a good father, Loki. Tonight when he fusses, I will show you all the tricks, and you can settle him. It takes practice,” she reassured him.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki was bouncing Leif on his knee, cooing and begging him to settle. Leif's lower lip was rigid and his sobs were showing no signs of slackening off. Eira sighed from the doorway to the nursery.

"Less bounce, Loki," she directed. Loki's knee slowed to a more sedate ride, and Leif's cries quieted, just a little. "Now the song."

"I don't sing, Eira." Loki's protests fell on dear ears.

"He won't settle without it." She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb. Loki sent a dark look in her direction and hummed quietly. Leif stopped crying, more out of surprise than anything else. He looked at his father, his eyes wide, and reached for Loki's mouth. He rested his fingers on Loki's lips, feeling the vibration against his hand. He reached for Loki with his other hand, and Loki pulled Leif close, rocking him and humming. Eira smiled at the picture of her boys and stepped out of the room.

She was reading from a book when Loki emerged a while later. He moved a chair from the far side of the table she was working at to sit beside her, and read over her shoulder. He sighed. More potions for healing. Eira knew he was frustrated, but Odin had been right to remind him that she had not changed since he'd fallen in love with her. He traced his fingers along the exposed skin on her shoulder, sweeping her hair to one side. Ever since the wedding, the ladies in waiting had been encouraging her to leave it down. It was impractical and in the way most of the time, but she left it down when she was going to visit court. Loki's cool lips came to rest on her neck, trailing light kisses from her ear to her shoulder. She squirmed away, giggling.

"You tickle me," she chastised. Loki left a moist kiss at the crook of her neck, murmuring soft words of love. The air from his speech swept across the damp kiss, sending tingles down her spine. She writhed away and took his face in her hands. "Loki."

He cut off anything else she might have said with a gentle kiss. "Thank you, my love." His eyes shone with unshed tears. Eira's heart pinched in her chest.

"You will be a good father, Loki. Be patient. With yourself as much as with Leif." Eira allowed him to lead her to bed.

XXX

Eira shot up in bed again, days later. She sighed and rolled over. It was not the call to battle she felt. She listened for Leif, but it was not her son that had pulled her from her sleep. She reached out for Loki and found his side of the bed was vacant. She sat up again, and squinted in the darkness, looking for his dark outline against the moonlight cascading through the curtains across their balcony. He was leaning against the demi wall, looking out into the night. She padded over to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind and laying her head on his back.

"Can you not sleep?" She asked. Loki sighed.

"Do you not hear it?" He asked.

"Hear what?" Eira strained in the darkness, but only the sound of the wind reached her ears.

"They pray to you. From Midgard. How do you not hear it? It is overwhelming, their chatter," he complained, turning in her arms and resting his chin on her head. His own arms sought the warmth of her body, and he held her close.

"Midgard is not noisy tonight, Loki. I hear the usual prayers; prayers for good health, prayers for recovery from minor wounds. But they are not loud tonight." Eira sighed. "It blends in, becomes white noise. They pray from deliverance from things I cannot or will not resolve for them. After a while, I no longer hear the specifics. I hear the prayers that come from real need. But there are none of those tonight."

"And why must I hear them?" Loki bit, his tone bitter.

"Because you are too focused. Because we are bound to one another. Because we are together so much. I know not, love. I can only hope that you'll come to hear only the important prayers as well," Eira shrugged. Loki was tense in her arms. She rubbed his back and laid her face against the bare skin of his chest. "You are angry."

"How long did it take?" He asked. "Before the prayers turned to background noise?"

"A few months. Less probably." Eira slid her hands up into the hair at the nape of Loki's neck. "Come back to bed. I will make you forget."

"When did my wife become so brazen?" The corner of Loki's mouth turned up as she led him back to their bed.

"My dear husband. You have married a Valkyrie. Have you not heard the tales from Midgard? We take whichever men we want. Whenever we want. However we want." She pulled him down to the mattress, laughing when his head smacked into hers. When his lips met hers, her laughter was silenced. Eira slid her hands under his tunic, pushing it up his back. Loki pulled his arms out one at a time, and broke away from her long enough to pull the tunic over his head and throw it across the room. His hands fumbled with the brooches on her hangarok, until laughter bubbled up from Eira again. She pulled away and made quick work of removing the brooches and festoons, dropping them gently on the floor. Loki smiled as the soft linen of the hangarok fell open. His hands slid down her hips as his mouth found hers again, searching for the hem of her tunic. He tugged at it, distracted again by Eira's insistent kisses. He finally pulled away and assisted Eira out of her tunic. She laid back on the bed, letting him take in the gentle swell of her belly, the once angry marks where Leif had stretched her skin finally fading. He was continuously astonished at the confidence she gained each time they coupled. Gone was the shy girl who had been embarrassed of her body when they'd first lain together.

Before he had a chance to fully get lost in the contemplation of his wife's increased beauty and the correlation between that and her confidence, Eira tugged at the ties on his breeches, and pulled him back to her as they fell open. Her skin was hot against his, and Eira could feel goosebumps rising on her arms and chest where his much cooler skin touched her. His hands slid from her hips to her waist. He pressed his hips to hers and she shivered. His hand found her breast, his fingers spread wide to cup its fullness. His thumb rubbed across her nipple and she sighed against his mouth.

"Don't make me wait tonight, Loki," she breathed into his ear. He groaned and shifted his hips. He slipped a hand under her thigh and tilted her hips to gain purchase as he pushed slowly against her. Eira let out a quiet moan as he entered her, and her breath hitching as he started to rock his hips against her. Eira dug her fingers into his back and wrapped her legs around his thighs, pulling him closer. Eira tugged on Loki's lip with her teeth and he groaned against her mouth. She moaned as his speed increased, rocking her hips in response. Loki let out a noise she could only describe as a growl and thrust harder against her, losing himself to the sensation of her legs rubbing against his, and her breasts crushed to his cool chest. Eira could feel him thickening inside her and sighed her own release when he cried out against her shoulder, collapsing against her.

"You are my everything, Eira. I will never wrong you again," he kissed her shoulder as she slipped out of bed to wash. When she returned to bed, Loki pulled her close, settling his chin against her shoulder. "I love you, darling."

"And I you, Loki." Eira lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed it. She let him slide it back to cup her breast and fell asleep to Loki's rhythmic breathing against her shoulder. She didn't waken when he slipped from the bed.

XXX

The late morning sun was streaming across their bed when Eira wakened. She listened for Leif, but could hear nothing. She rose and pulled a tunic on as she padded to the nursery. She crept in quietly, and saw Leif sleeping soundly. He'd obviously been up and changed, but was down for his morning nap. She backed out of the room as quietly as she'd entered and looked around the rest of their rooms for Loki, but could find him nowhere. Rather than go looking for him, she opted to return to her studies, searching out more uses for the various medicinal plants of Asgard. The Allfather had complained of sore shoulders the last time he'd lifted Leif into his arms, and Eira knew there was something she could compound to help ease his pains.

Loki crept in without disturbing her, carrying a trencher loaded with food. He placed it on the table beside her, causing her to jump.

"I had hoped to surprise you with breakfast in bed," he admitted with some disappointment. Eira squeezed his hand.

"I would have slept the day away had the sun not wakened me," she admitted.

"Then I will move the bed so it does not happen again," he promised. Eira laughed and shook her head.

"I would not want to sleep all day, love." She looked at Loki, and saw bags under his eyes. "But perhaps you should have slept later. When did you rise?"

"I am fine, Eira. It is difficult to rest well with an insatiable Valkyrie in my bed." He kissed her forehead, a teasing tone in his voice. Eira snorted.

"Perhaps you'd like to take a nap now, while Leif sleeps? Since I am so insatiable? You never know, I may attack you and demand satisfaction." She rolled her eyes. Loki let out a loud bark of laughter.

"Fandral was drinking with Thor last night and asked after you. He says he's been low with illness since they returned from Alfheim a fortnight ago. You might need to mend him." Loki kissed her forehead. Eira visibly perked up.

"I haven't seen him in too long. Does he stay at the palace? Where would I find him?" Eira didn't notice the scowl that marred Loki's handsome features, wrinkling his brow. "I should wait until Leif wakes. Fandral will want to see him, and play uncle."

"I'm sure you will find him in the dining hall. The works of them were there, recovering." Loki sat on the stool beside Eira and passed her a piece of cheese. She chewed and stared at the wall, lost in thought.

"Do you know where I could find wild arnica near the palace?" Her question startled Loki, who had convinced himself that she was thinking about Fandral.

"There is some in mother's garden. Why?"

"The Allfather has pain in his shoulders, I want to help him." Her words were simple. Loki realized he was a fool for assuming complexities in his wife that did not actually exist. Eira returned to her contemplations, pausing occasionally for another bite of food. When Leif finally wakened, she realized Loki had absented himself from their rooms again and felt a flash of guilt for becoming so lost in her healing that she didn't realize he'd gone. While she changed Leif, she heard him return.

"Arnica. You are low on beeswax. I had planned to ride today, I can stop at the market," he offered when she came out of the nursery. Eira set Leif down to play and kissed Loki's cheek.

"Thank you, love."

XXX

Leif squealed and ran toward Fandral as soon as he toddled into the great hall. His chubby legs carried him forward, arms outstretched. Fandral squatted down and took the baby tackle with grace. He lifted him in his arms, allowing the boy to cover his face with wet, sloppy kisses as Eira rushed forward.

"Fandral, I'm so sorry. He hasn't learned to kiss with his mouth closed," Eira apologized and held her arms out to take Leif back. Fandral shook his head and kissed Leif's forehead in return.

"I haven't seen him in nearly a month and he remembers me! What a smart lad!" He gently removed Leif's fingers from his beard, and let him slide down onto his hip. Leif was distracted by a shiny medallion hanging from Fandral's neck and started picking it up and trying to feed it to Fandral. Eira laughed and lifted the boy from her friend's arms.

"He adores you. More than he does Thor, I think." Eira chose not to mention that Leif had seen more of Fandral than he had his uncle, which explained his lack of fondness for Thor. Fandral was wise enough to puzzle out the message, despite it being unsaid.

"So Thor still sulks. He speaks as though he has moved on, but I think he feels the betrayal of Loki very keenly," Fandral explained. Eira sighed as Leif struggled to break free from her grasp, and allowed that he could run and explore. She seated herself on a cushioned bench and dropped her elbows to her knees, keeping a careful eye on her small boy.

"Thor needs to stop seeing me as a possession that he lost. If he were only hurting himself, it would be one thing, but he has not spoken to Loki since before the wedding. Brothers should not be at odds." Eira was frustrated. "I would give anything to have my brother still alive. Loki never speaks of it, but he sleeps poorly, creeping out of our bed when I am asleep. I'm sure only Heimdall knows where he goes."

"I spent much of the trip to Alfheim trying to talk some sense into him, Eira. He will come around," Fandral reassured her, and turned to pull a partially full tankard from Leif's grasp just as the toddler was tipping it to his mouth. "That is stale and was not a good ale to begin with, my boy. Uncle Fandral will see that you learn what it worth drinking. When you are older." Leif's face crumpled, and he looked about to cry, but Fandral handed him a bowl of berries from the table, instantly placating him. Eira admired the ease with which Fandral interacted with Leif. She knew she shouldn't compare his demeanour with Loki's, but Loki always seemed so uncomfortable, uncertain and awkward with his son, despite the demands that he be involved. Fandral, on the other hand, was just as easy and fluid in his interactions with Leif as he was with Eira, or any of his other friends. Almost as though he saw Leif as a very small friend. Eira said as much, causing Fandral to laugh.

"He is very much like any other warrior in Asgard after too much drink. He stumbles, he falls, you can't understand what he says, and he wants to shower you with brotherly affection," Fandral explained. "I've spent my life with men just like Leif is now."

"Surely you don't mean me, shield-brother," Thor's voice filled the room, and he stepped forward to join Eira and Fandral. Eira smiled in greeting and was surprised when Thor returned the smile with genuine good nature that even reached his eyes. He sat on the bench opposite Eira and watched Leif stumble across the room, exploring. "He is handsome, Eira. He looks like your father."

Eira couldn't hold back her smile. "Do you think? I was hoping so." Eira neglected to mention that Loki had suggested that he may grow up to look more like Thor because he was conceived while Loki wore Thor's appearance. This détente was unexpected, and she did not want to say or do anything that would cause Thor to regret making the friendly move.

"If he winds up as broad as your father, he will be a fine warrior. We will have to start him with a sword early." Thor's gaze never left the boy. Eira looked up at Fandral, who was leaning against the table smiling at Thor. His eyes flicked over to Eira and he winked. Eira felt hopeful. Fandral understood, probably better than anyone else, Eira's concerns about the effect of the estrangement of the two brothers.

"Not too early though, Thor. Let him be a baby a while longer," Eira smiled. Thor nodded, his eyes meeting hers again.

"You are looking well, Eira. I heard you are riding with your sisters again?" It was the first time Thor had attempted more than a cursory greeting to her in months. She nodded, almost too stunned to find words. She looked to Fandral for guidance, but he had been distracted by Leif, and was moving to follow the boy through the hall. She looked back at Thor and nodded.

"Yes, we were on Midgard just a sennight ago. It feels different somehow. Their healers are bolder, certainly, chastising me for my absence," she laughed. Thor bristled.

"How dare –"

"No, Thor, they are right to ask. I was absent too long. I have a twofold responsibility to them, both as a Valkyrie and as their goddess," Eira interrupted. "And it was I who chose to be their healer." Thor sighed and sat back on the bench.

"I had not considered it that way. How does Loki fare?" The change of topic was abrupt, and Eira realized that it was the entire reason for Thor's continued conversation.

"He sleeps poorly. He loves his son, but he struggles. We were apart for too long and he has missed learning Leif's needs and wants. My fault again." Eira felt the burden of blame every time Loki didn't know what to do with Leif. Thor opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a shriek of laughter from Leif. They both looked over to where the sound had come from and saw Fandral kneeling over Leif, tickling his ribs. Anytime Fandral stopped, Leif would stop laughing, wait a moment and tug Fandral's fingers to his ribs again. Thor looked back to Eira and was silent for a moment.

"You were in Vanaheim how long?" He asked. Eira looked at the ceiling to count.

"Six months, about. A lifetime for a new babe," she admitted. Thor let out a huff of air.

"But to us, nothing. You need to cease accepting the blame for everyone else's failings, Eira. Loki has always cast about to shift blame. You should not be guilty for his failings as a father," Thor asserted. "I may not have loved you, and I understand what you meant now when you said it, but even I would not blame you for doing what was right for your family, Eira. In the aftermath of Loki's betrayal, it is a wonder you tried to stay here at all. And a credit to your sensible nature that you came back. Never forget that Loki tricked us both, and that you paid the ultimate price." There was steel in his words. Eira glanced back at Leif.

"He is a beautiful and sweet ultimate price, Thor."

"Loki is fortunate to have such a forgiving woman. When I finally fall in love, I hope she is as good as you are, Eira." Thor rose from the bench and stepped toward her. Eira rose out of habit for the departing prince, still not used to her place as a princess. He stopped in front of her and placed a hand on her cheek. "You are too good for either of us." He dropped a kiss to her forehead before turning and leaving the room. Eira stood in stunned silence until Leif let out another peal of laughter, breaking her trance.


	4. Chapter 4

“I told you he would come around.” Fandral was smug. Coupled with the stooped walk he adopted as he chased Leif, Eira couldn’t help but laugh. 

“He is still angry with Loki,” Eira countered. Fandral scooped Leif in his arms and stepped over the bench to sit down beside her. Leif crawled over his shoulder and reached for Eira, who was holding her hands out to the boy.

“Aye. That is going to take longer to blow over, Eira. Understandably.” Fandral gave her a pointed look. Eira nodded.

“But they are brothers, Fandral.”

“Isn’t is always a woman?” He winked. She rolled her eyes and stood. 

“I should find Loki. He’ll think you’ve stolen me away,” she laughed. Leif reached for Fandral again, his cheerful smile falling away. Fandral rose as well, and rubbed his nose against Leif’s.

“Now, now, my boy. Be strong. Uncle Fandral will be here for a while, and anytime Mummy needs a break, you can come play,” he cooed. Leif’s smile returned, and Fandral looked over the ginger curls to make eye contact with Eira. “Truly, Eira. There is peace for now. Should you and Loki need time together without Leif, I would be happy –“

“No, Fandral. Loki needs to understand that there is to be no courtship here. We are wed, we have a child. There are no child-free escapes. He chose that for both of us. I appreciate the offer, but Loki needs to learn to cope.” Eira felt guilty saying it, but she wanted Loki to be able to stand on his own as a parent. He would need to be able to, since she was to remain a Valkyrie.

“The offer stands. Anytime, Eira. He is a sweet boy.”

Eira shook her head, a smile creeping across her features. “Who would have thought it would be Fandral who loved children so well? Fandral, the eternal bachelor, playing uncle to the littlest prince.”

“Don’t tell anyone. I’ll be dragged off to the altar before I realize what has hit me,” Fandral laughed. “Truth be told Eira, I love Leif. But I’m not over-fond of other children.”

“I think he is lovelier than other children, Fandral, but he is mine and I have a mother’s bias. Despite that, I don’t know why you think higher of him than other children,” she laughed with embarrassment. Fandral kissed Leif’s forehead and then pressed his lips to her own forehead.

“Must be my fondness for the biased mother, then,” he teased. Eira scoffed.

“Oh please!”

“Truly and sadly, you are immune to my charms. You are well-loved, Princess.” He leaned in to kiss her forehead again, and froze, his lips just a fraction away from her head. He stepped back and nodded over her shoulder, suddenly awkward. Eira saw the rigidity in his posture and turned, meeting Loki’s cold stare head on.

“She is well-loved, Fandral. By her rightful husband, an heir to Asgard,” Loki snarled. Eira flinched. Leif tensed in her arms, and threw his chubby arms around her throat, burying his face in hair she’d left loose. She could hear him sucking his fingers.

“Yes, that is what I was just saying. You must make your wife happy, Loki, that she can be so completely oblivious to my flirtation,” Fandral’s easy laugh was not strained, and Eira could feel the tension leaving her as he didn’t rise to Loki’s bait. Loki quirked an eyebrow at Fandral, and then the stiffness melted from his posture.

“I am a fool for doubting either of you. Fandral, you have always been honourable with Eira. Accept my apology,” Loki sighed. “I haven’t been sleeping, and have always been prone to suspicion.”

Fandral pulled Loki into a relaxed embrace. “A little mead, mixed with Valerian, and you will be sleeping soundly in no time. Eira taught me that when I couldn’t settle after I was wounded with that cursed blade.”

“Perhaps I will try that then. If you’ll excuse us, Fandral. I must have an audience with my wife.” Loki held out a hand to assist Eira to her feet. She gave him a confused look and called Leif to her before trailing after him back to their rooms. Loki poured her a glass of mead while she settled Leif for his nap. He was pacing in front of the table filled with her medical volumes when she came out of the nursery. He walked towards her with purpose and took her hand wordlessly. He led her to the edge of their bed and gestured for her to sit, then knelt in front of her.

“What is going on, Loki?” Eira’s brow wrinkled. “You emanate tension.”

“I am –“ he paused and huffed out a deep sigh. “I find myself –“ He trailed off again. Eira smiled, and took his hands in hers.

“Just speak, Loki. Without concern for how you say it.”

“I need to go,” he blurted, almost before Eira had finished speaking. Eira flinched.

“Where?”

“I just need to go. I have an itch, and before you, when I would feel the pull to wander, I could just go, and be gone. But with Leif, and you, I’ve been trying to stay, but I cannot sleep, I have no appetite. I’m a terrible husband, and a worse father. But I need to go, Eira.” The words came in a rush. Eira recoiled as though she had been slapped.

“Is it something I have done?” She blanched. She hadn’t felt that she was needy, but going from the freedom to do whatever he chose to being saddled with both a wife and a child might have been too much.  
“No, Eira, that’s what I am trying to say. I have always been this way. I need isolation, at times. Just enough that I can focus my magic, focus my thoughts. Father will tell you, I’ve often gone and taken leave of court and Asgard. I have been trying to ignore the pull because of you and Leif.” Loki leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. “I would not go, but my health is suffering.”

“Loki, I will not lie to you. I do not want you to go. You are only just becoming comfortable with your son,” Eira began. Loki drew in his breath to protest, and Eira laid her hand across his mouth to silence him. “But I have noticed how you are never in bed unless it is to make love. Your colour is poor; you’ve purple beneath your eyes. I have been trying Valerian in your evening mead with no effect. If you feel this will restore your health, you must go. I have your mother. Your brother is speaking to me again. I have my sisters. It will be well, so long as you are restored.”

“I am always taking from you, Eira. I truly do not deserve you.” Loki kissed her again. Eira nodded.

“On that you are correct, my prince,” she laughed. “How soon will you go?”

“I would like to leave tonight.” He was asking her permission. She nodded.

“I need to ride to Valkyrjahús before you go. I can be saddled and gone immediately.” Eira rose and gathered her small sack before turning back to Loki. “I will be back before Leif wakes.”

XXX

Eira hadn’t bothered to change into clothing more appropriate to riding, but instead hitched her skirts to mid-thigh as she mounted Fleygur. She galloped out to Valkyrjahús as fast as the horse would carry her, and rather than stabling him, she tied his reigns to the post by the main door. She headed directly to the armour room, knowing the women would be polishing dull steel, or sharpening blades, as they always did when the peace lasted too long. Bryn leapt to her feet when she saw Eira, dropping the leg armour she had been polishing.

“Sister! There has been no call,” she hugged Eira close. Eira returned the embrace.

“I have need of something from my kit,” Eira explained. “Loki is going off world for a journey, and I am in need of a durable memento. Who knows what trouble he will get up to. A scrap of my skirt will hardly suffice.”

She headed to her armour stand and unlaced the bronze plates of her torso armour, intending to take one from the skirt. Her hands stilled and she re-laced the loosened plates, instead pulling a dagger from her boot, and cutting one free from elsewhere on the armour. She slipped it into her sack before turning to leave.

“Surely you aren’t leaving already?” Kara complained. “We haven’t visited. I haven’t told you about Hrist and your brother!” Eira stopped dead in her tracks, and spun to face her friends.  
“Hrist and my brother?” She asked, staring pointedly at Hrist. Her friend flushed and looked away.

“It just kind of happened, Eira. Last time we were in Valhalla,” she offered. Eira let out a loud laugh and shook her head.

“Of course it did.” She shook her head. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Oh yes.”

“Then you can tell me all the details when I come for a visit, tomorrow. But today, I need to ready my husband for his journey,” Eira smiled. She turned to head back to Fleygur.

“You’d best bring that boy of yours, Eira!” Bryn called after her. Eira waved in acknowledgement and spurred Fleygur back up to a gallop. She reined her horse in at the hilltop behind her mother’s lands, where Loki had first shown her the power of her magic. She slid from Fleygur’s back and sat, cross-legged, at the peak of the hill. 

Eira laid the bronze plate on the grass in front of her, and then focused her magic. She had never used it for anything but healing, but she hoped that because her intentions were pure, the strange spell that had popped into her mind as soon as Loki had announced his need to travel would work. She dropped a few small slivers of a number of roots on top of the plate, and cupped her hands over the items. She pushed safety, strength, and love through her hands, and the roots, into the plate. A quick flare of heat made her pull her hands away, and she saw the roots had burned. When she brushed the blackened remains out of the way, they’d left a scar on the metal that looked a little like the first rune of her name had been combined with the first rune of Loki’s name. Satisfied that her spell had worked, she collected the plate back to her sack and remounted Fleygur for the ride home.

She strode back into the palace from the stables, and reached their rooms just as she heard Leif stir to crying from his nap. Loki was nowhere to be seen. She sighed and headed to the nursery, only to find Leif standing at the edge of his crib, watching Loki, who was sleeping in the chair beside the crib, a forgotten book in his lap. Eira’s heart softened. As hurtful as she was finding Loki’s departure, she had been worrying about him. She pressed a finger to Leif’s mouth to hush him and lifted him from his bed. 

She was stretched out beside Leif on the floor, helping the drowsy boy play with a small wooden horse and longship when Loki shot out of the nursery, alarm etched across his pale features. He strode into the room, and when his eyes fell on Eira and Leif, he stopped, placing a hand against his chest.

“I don’t know what I thought, but I woke and Leif was gone,” he started, collapsing into the chair nearest him. Eira nodded. 

“I didn’t want to wake you.” She gathered Leif’s toys and rose, hoisting the boy to her hip. “Maybe he will fall asleep now that he’s not got someone to try to wake up.”  
When she returned from the nursery, Loki had removed his boots, and loosened the tie at his collar. His long legs were stretched out in front of him. He held a small mead cup up to Eira, and when she took it, tapped the edge with his own. “Health.”

“Strength,” Eira countered. She settled in beside him, nestling under the crook of his arm. Careful not to spill her drink, she placed it beside her before she rummaged in her sack for the bronze plate from her armour. She pulled it free and placed it in his lap.

“What is this?” Loki asked. Eira knew that he recognized what it was, that he was asking what it meant.

“That is from my armour,” she offered. Loki reached for it, and when he grasped it, immediately dropped it.

“You’ve enchanted it.” He traced a finger along the marking the spell had left, slowly wrapping his hand around it. She could see the tendons on the back of his hand raise as he grasped it. “It’s very basic, Eira. But strong. How did you learn this?”

“Healing is not but protection after the fact, Loki. Rather than attempting to cure harm, I have just charmed it to prevent harm.” Eira shrugged. The spell had come, unbidden.

“As a novice to forms of magic other than healing, you should not have been able to work a spell so strong, Eira. Even some of your healing magic is not this strong. There must be more to it. Did someone help you?” Loki’s tone was curious, and without accusation. Eira smiled.

“My healing magic is strongest for those I love. Healing magic draws on love, empathy, compassion,” Eira explained. It was insight she’d discovered on Vanaheim. Loki leaned back and gazed down at her.

“But this is so strong, it burned and then bound itself to me,” Loki breathed.

“Is it so hard to believe I could love you?” Eira laughed.

“I have lived in a shadow my entire life. I pulled you from his golden light to take as my own. I struggle to soothe my son, and am about to run from every trouble I have and abandon you. I do not deserve the love you are so freely offering.” He looked away, his eyes filling with tears.

“And yet I love you. And I would see you home again soon,” Eira took his chin in her hand and turned it back to force him to see her. “It is time you accept that you are deserving of love. And if you still feel unworthy of it, rise to the place where you can be proud to take my love freely. I hope you find peace while you are away, husband. You will be missed.”

Loki leaned down and kissed her softly. “My bed will be cold tonight without you,” he murmured against her lips.

“Then take me there now and be warm for the last time before you go. You can depart on the morrow,” she whispered back. “But stay tonight, and try to leave me with another babe in my womb.”


	5. Chapter 5

Eira awoke to sunlight streaming across her, and knew without question that she was alone. She could hear Leif cooing and singing from the nursery, and rose to attend him. She pulled her tunic off the floor and pulled it over her head as she padded across the room. Loki had been frantic with need as they made love, and her clothes were scattered across the room, where he’d tossed them as he’d undressed her. She rubbed her face and yawned before picking up Leif and giving him a kiss. He squealed and pressed his own lips against her face in a messy display of affection.

“Come. Let us go find some food.” Eira changed his wet diaper and scooped him back up in her arms.

“Mmmmmm.” Leif’s response was appropriate, but Eira wasn’t sure if he actually knew that. She sat him on her lap and waited as they were served breakfast. It was quiet, no one else was out for the meal yet, and Leif’s giggles as he ate filled the room, echoing off the walls. Frigga entered and Eira struggled to her feet to bow.

“I have told you over and over Eira, there is no need for you to offer reverence to me. We are family,” Frigga chastised gently.

“Those closest to you should offer you the most respect, to ensure the rest understand the regard you are held in,” Eira argued. Frigga kissed her forehead and lifted Leif from her arms.

“For a woman who grew up away from court, you certainly have some strong opinions about courtly life,” Frigga commented. 

“Mother chose to stay away from court to focus on serving your populace, but she knew that at some point I would need to attend court, and ensured I was properly educated,” Eira acknowledged.

“Your mother has always been a woman of strong principles. And a blessing to every Aesir. You ride out to her daily, do you not?” Frigga asked. Eira nodded.

“She loves Leif greatly. And had never anticipated being a grandmother.” Eira had no qualms about spoiling Leif with her mother’s affection. He would eventually know the story of his conception, and she wanted him to be able to look back on his childhood and never doubt how much he was loved. Frigga waved away the attendants and sat, gesturing that Eira should as well. She placed her free hand on Eira’s knee and leaned close.

“Loki has gone, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he left sometime in the night,” Eira admitted, her eyes filling with tears.

“And you are hurt.” Frigga concluded.

“How can I not be? Leif and I are not enough to make him happy. He seeks comfort elsewhere.” Eira dashed the tears from her cheeks in embarrassment. Frigga brought a hand up and still Eira’s.

“Loki has always been mischief personified, Eira. He makes a show of taking little in life seriously, but I know my son, and he takes everything to heart deeply. He bottles his emotions and buries his wounds until he not longer can sleep, eat, function. And then he goes away, usually only for a few weeks, and he slays whatever demons haunt him. He comes home happy, strong, well-rested. And the cycle begins again,” Frigga offered. “And it is fair that you feel hurt. And he will be distraught for having caused it. But this is not something that Loki will ever seek for you to comfort because he fears harming you. Just as he’s never sought me to comfort him.”

Eira nodded. “I know part of his struggle has been making the transition to fatherhood. And I am the guilty party there, as I took Leif away.”

“No, Eira. You cannot blame yourself for doing exactly what you needed to do to make Loki recognize his responsibility to you. I love my son, but I am not sure that he would have even tried to be a good father and husband had you not gone to Vanaheim. You must not fell guilt for an action that has wrought good.” Frigga smoothed Leif’s hair out of his face and kissed his rosy cheeks.

“Frigga, you are a healer too,” Eira started. Frigga nodded. “What ails him that he is so constantly cold? I can find no way to heal him, but I worry for his well being when his whole body is always well below normal temperature. When I look into his body, he is like no being I’ve ever tried to heal before.”

Frigga’s lips set in a thin line and she let out a low huff air. “What I am about to share with you, even Loki does not know. And I would have you swear a blood oath to not repeat it.” She pulled out a dagger and pricked her finger before holding the dagger out to Eira. Eira repeated the motion and offered her hand to Frigga. Frigga pressed her finger against Eira’s, and Eira felt a sting of power at the contact. Frigga blinked and her eyes widened. “You are more powerful than I’d expected.”

“I am a healer.” Eira thought back to the enchantment on the scale from her armour. Frigga shook her head slowly.

“You are so much more, Eira. Untapped, raw potential,” Frigga breathed. “Swear your oath, child. Understand that the strength of your magic will bind it tightly, and should you break it the consequence could be death.”

“My magic is not that strong,” Eira protested.

“It is, Eira.” Frigga countered. Eira swallowed thickly, and looked at Leif. Whatever it was, it was worth the binding oath that would help her understand her husband better.

“I swear that I will not betray your trust, Allmother. And let the consequence of betrayal be the loss of my magic and ability,” Eira promised. Frigga blanched.

“That will kill you, Eira,” she argued.

“Then I offer it and seal it. This is my guarantee that I will not betray your trust, Frigga.” Eira could feel the surge of power through her body as the oath bound itself to her, right into her bones. Frigga released her hand and took a deep breath.

“Little more than a thousand years ago, Asgard was at war with Jotunheim. It was long, drawn out, bloody. Many were lost on both sides. But finally, Odin and the forces of Asgard gained the upper hand in battle, and soon, Jotunheim fell. While Odin surveyed what was left of the ice realm, he heard a babe cry. He followed the sound, sword at the ready, sure it was a trap. Instead, he found a Jotun babe. Small. Too small to be accepted by his parents. They had abandoned him at the temple, for the cold to take him. As Odin looked at him, he changed, and took on the appearance of the Aesir. Odin was so amazed by this tiny babe, that he gathered him up and brought him home to me. Thor was still in diapers, not much older than Leif. We decided that we would raise the boys as brothers, and not tell them of Loki’s heritage until it was necessary.” Frigga spoke slowly, as though each word bore a weight that made it hard to speak. Eira blinked in confusion.

“Loki is not Aesir?” She was unsure she’d understood what Frigga had told her.

“Loki is Jotun,” Frigga confirmed.

“Leif is half Jotun then?” Eira looked at her son’s blonde curls, light eyes. He looked every inch an Aesir child. Eira reached for him and took him back to her lap. She felt his skin, but it was just as warm as hers.

“You do not seem as troubled as I feared.” Frigga admired Eira’s composure. Eira shrugged.

“Should I be bothered? I have seen the inner workings of his body. I should have recognized that there were elements to him that were not Aesir. I’ve never held to the stories that the Jotun are nothing more than monsters,” Eira pressed a hand to Leif’s chest and let her magic flow through him. He looked like any other Aesir, with none of the peculiar markings she’d noted in Loki’s body. “My only question is why there is no sign of mixed blood in Leif.”

Frigga tilted her head and laid her hand atop Eira’s, doubling the force of the magic flowing through the baby. He giggled and tried to pull away, as though he was being tickled. Even with the amplified power, she couldn’t see anything to suggest Leif wasn’t completely Aesir.

“The night you conceived, Loki came to you in Thor’s form?” Frigga asked.

“I’ve long wondered if Leif will look more like Thor than Loki because of it,” Eira nodded.

“I think it’s possible that while in disguise, Loki may have suppressed his Jotun nature. Or it may be that Leif’s Jotun characteristics will not manifest until he is older.” Frigga seemed as confused as Eira was.

“Tis no bother, Frigga. My love for both my boys remains unchanged with this revelation. And it may help me to understand Loki more in years to come.” Eira had healed enough non-Aesir to know that each person on each realm bleed just as any other did. And if they bled the same, they likely carried the same hopes and dreams, fears and sorrows with them as well.

XXX

Loki stumbled through the Ironwood of Jotunheim, lost and beginning to feel the cold. It had taken all his will to slip from his marriage bed and leave Eira and his son behind, but he feared he would fade into nothingness if he did not. The Ironwood had been a place of refuge ever since he had first discovered the secret paths between the realms. There were few Jotun who lived in the wood, and Loki had always managed to steer clear of most of them. Except for one, who always seemed to sense when he had arrived, and would find him within his first few hours.

But today, Angrboda had not tracked him on arrival, and it had been long enough that the woods had become unfamiliar between visits. He found himself in an area of the woods that was unfamiliar. He decided that he needed to at least stop and build a fire. He was warming his hands over the flames when he sensed someone watching him, and spun around.

She was taller than he remembered, but maybe it was because she had grown. The rough pelts she wore as clothing hid a rather more womanly figure than he remembered. Her blue skin and stark red eyes always startled him the first time he saw her after being absent from the wood, but even now, he saw her jaw had changed, and her cheekbones had become more prominent. If it were possible for a Jotun woman to be beautiful, Angrboda had become just that.

“Stupid Aesir. Are you trying to call down all the wolves to let them know there is a fresh meal waiting?” She hissed at him, and kicked snow across the fire, smothering it.

“I am cold!” Loki protested.

“Then come warm yourself at my hearth, idiot,” she snapped, and turned away. Loki knew better than to argue and followed behind her, chastised. He could not help but notice the swing of her hips, or the gentle curve to her waist. He shook his head and tried to banish the appreciation of her figure, feeling traitorous to Eira. He watched her feet for the rest of the walk to her hut. She held the door open and bowed mockingly as he crossed the threshold.

“Your Highness, you are once again welcome in my home,” she sneered. Loki wondered what is was about him that drew her out. She certainly didn’t like him much, and spent most of her time mocking his manners, appearance and lineage. Loki looked around the spare cabin and noted the absence of the rest of her family. The last time he’d been, there had been scattered evidence of a busy life, well lived. Spare boots, extra bows, arrows on the fletching jig.

“Where have your parents gone? Are they well?” Loki inquired, determined to honour the etiquette he was raised with.

“It was a cold winter,” Angrboda answered.

“Is it not always winter here?” Loki laughed. “Did they find a warmer clime, then?” He couldn’t imagine what would qualify as warmer on Jotunheim, but maybe there was somewhere not quite as cold.

“When supplies are scarce and the winters are cold, the old sacrifice for the young, so that the Jotun may remain strong, Loki.” Angrboda’s words were a riddle.

“They went without so you would survive? I am sorry for your loss, Angrboda,” Loki offered. He hadn’t realized like was quite so harsh on Jotunheim, and instantly regretted his earlier jest. The circumstance of Angrboda’s family had never seemed particularly desperate when he’d previously visited, and she’d always insisted that they share meals with him. He felt a wave of guilt for taking from the less fortunate.

“It is no great loss. I carry their strength and spirit within me now, and we will forever be one,” she shrugged. “And they were delicious.”

Loki started at the comment, and then gagged. Surely she was not admitting to having eaten her parents. He stared at her, and she smiled. Her sharp, pointed teeth had seemed a curiosity before, but now they seemed more sinister, and he felt himself shrinking into his long leather coat.

“I had no idea life was so hard on Jotunheim,” he admitted finally.

“And why would you, pretty prince of Asgard? You come and go as you please, never stopping to consider that the worlds you play in are filled with people living real lives,” Angrboda rolled her eyes, and stepped close to Loki. She leaned in and took a deep breath, smelling him. “You smell weak. There would be shame in feasting on your bones, and no health would come to me. You are safe, boy prince.” She sniffed him again, and her eyes narrowed. She leaned in close to his neck and pressed her nose to the vein running beside his Adam’s apple and closed her eyes as she scented him.

Loki tried to step away, but Angrboda grabbed his arm and held him in place. She smiled, and then dragged her tongue up his neck, along the vein. “Angrboda, stop.”

“You may not be good eating, Loki, but I can think of other things to do with you. Tonight you rest. You are exhausted. It had been too long since you have run in the Ironwood. Tomorrow we will make plans.” She ran a finger along his jawline, and Loki flinched, and then flushed, embarrassed at the response of his body. The giantess just smiled and gestured to a bed on the far side of the cabin. “I will even give you your own bed, since you’ve come up shy since your last visit.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Amma!” Leif threw his arms open to Halla, almost before Eira reigned in her horse. Halla reached up and took him, kissing him on the forehead and squeezing him close to her.

“Did my sweet boy miss his Amma?” Halla kissed him again and suddenly, with the changing whim of a toddler, Leif was struggling to free himself. Halla laughed and walked toward the gated garden before setting him free.

“Mother, he’ll destroy the healing garden!” Eira exclaimed and started toward the havoc being wreaked by her small son. Halla put a hand out to stop Eira, shaking her head.

“All of the plants you brought back from Midgard are hearty, Eira, and have gone to seed for the season. Let him play. He can do no harm,” she chastised. Eira sighed and paced to the fountain, propping herself on the ledge. Halla followed, and placed her hand on Eira’s. “It has only been a few days, Eira. He will come home.”

“It’s been eight days, Mother,” Eira sighed heavily.

“Both he and Frigga said he can sometimes be weeks,” Halla reassured her.

“My courses came this morning.” Eira’s tone was flat. Halla squeezed her fingers and leaned over to kiss her forehead. Leif saw that kisses were being distributed and came to present himself to his mother and grandmother. They indulged him until his toddler’s changeability made him wriggle free to terrorize the daisies again.

“And you were hoping –“

“I thought it we had another, with no deception this time,” Eira trailed off. Halla nodded.

“He loves you, Eira. But I think it better you only have Leif,” she sighed. Eira’s eyes filled with tears.

“But –“

“Hear me out, child,” Halla took Eira’s hand in her own. “He said that this need to go off is normal for him. And Odin has no plans to release you. Midgard depends on you entirely too much as their healer. Leif needs you, and he needs a father. Another babe in the home would divide your time even further, and neither child would have the attention he deserves.”

“But –“

“Eira, please. Your son is third in line to the throne of Asgard. Until his father settles and begins acting like the second in line, it would not be wise for you to add a fourth.” Halla released her hand and caught Leif as he ran past her, carrying a rock. She lifted him and kissed him on the cheek. He barely tolerated it; squirming until she put him back on his feet so he could recommence running with his large rock. Eira and Halla watched him play. He would find a rock, carry it to the far side of the garden, drop it and run back. He transported rocks for most of the afternoon, only resting when he was offered a drink and snack of berries and cheese. When Eira finally lifted him into her arms to bring him back to the palace, he squirmed just for a few minutes before Fleygur’s gait rocked him to sleep. She was able to change him and tuck him into his bed without waking him. A handmaid approached her not long after she settled Leif.

“The queen would see you,” she spoke quietly. Eira rose, and nodded. Wordlessly, she checked on Leif and satisfied that he would be safe without her, she followed the handmaid to Frigga, who waited in the family dining room. Eira curtsied, and Frigga nodded toward a chair. A servant filled a mead cup, while another placed a meal in front of her. The smell made her mouth water, and she realized how late it was and how little she’d eaten at her mother’s, so wrapped up in her sorrow about not being with child. She took a bite of meat and it was perfection. She didn’t waste time tucking into the rest of the meal before her.

“It is for the best, Eira,” Frigga spoke gently, as though she could read Eira’s mind. Eira wasn’t sure, perhaps the queen could. Her magic was of greater renown that Loki’s.

“I have had many years to unburden myself of the desire for family, and yet it has never come. I always wanted children,” Eira responded.

“And you have a beautiful son,” Frigga reminded her. Eira’s eyes flashed and her temper flared.

“Am I to be satisfied with a single child and an absentee husband?” She dropped her fork and raised an eyebrow. Frigga drew in her breath slowly.

“For now, yes. I have been patient, Eira. But you are a princess. A Valkyrie. A goddess. The wife of a prince, and the mother to one of the heirs of Asgard. You will be satisfied with the bounty that has been heaped upon you. And you will remember that both you and your husband are young. And must learn to work as a couple. When Loki comes home, I will talk with him, but for now, you must put away your sullen behaviour and be the strong woman I know you to be. Your son needs that example.” Frigga took a drink and sighed. “I am sure Loki will return home soon.”

XXX

Loki stared at Angrboda across the cabin, his eyes full of distrust. She had threatened him, hadn’t she? He was confused. He wasn’t sure if she meant to kill and eat him or seduce him. And he wasn’t sure which terrified him more. He sat back against the wall on the bed.

“I am not the one who has changed, Aesir man-boy,” she snarled from the other bunk across the room. “You smell like a woman. I can smell her stench from here. You need to bathe.”

“I do not!” Loki protested. Angrboda was across the room in an instant, and pushed him down onto the bed. She pulled his coat open, running her sharp nail down the centre of his chest. Her nose followed the finger, and she breathed in deeply. She gagged and pushed back to her heels, kneeling across his lap.

“You reek of her. Who is she?” If it was possible for her brow to furrow, Angrboda’s brow had. Loki sighed, knowing it was better just to tell her. His past experiences on Jotunheim had proven that the giantess was relentless in the pursuit of information. He’d thought it was harmless when they were playing games in the Ironwood, when he showed off his magic ability. It wasn’t so harmless when she had him pinned to a bed and her teeth were gleaming.

“My wife.” Loki pulled his open coat closed as much as he could. “A man is allowed to smell of his wife.” He shoved at Angrboda and she was so surprised she let him push her off his lap.

“You married? Why would you do that?” Angrboda was stunned.

“I fell in love. Why wouldn’t I?” Loki asked, just as confused as Angrboda appeared. Her shoulders rolled in, and she dropped her head to her hands. When she looked back up, there were tears in her eyes.

“But you were mine, stupid Aesir,” she protested.

“I’ve never been yours,” Loki retorted.

“My parents are gone. I took them to be strong for you. So you could but a babe in my belly. So we could start our family.” Angrboda looked wildly around the room at the few mementos of her parent’s lives. Loki scrambled to his feet, and hedged toward the door. She bolted across the room and blocked his exit. “No! No! You are mine, Loki Odinsson! You belong to me! This wife, she loves you? She has loved you since you were children? I have! Since your first visit to the Ironwood, Loki, I have loved you. Everything I have done has been to prepare for our family.”

“I have never given you a reason to think I would settle with you. You’re Jotun! You’re a monster!” Loki exclaimed.

“Who is the monster? The girl who shared her home, her family, or the boy who arrived and stole her heart, only to tear it out and stomp on it?” Angrboda shrieked. “You told me I was your best friend! You told me you loved me!”

“As a brother loves a sister, Boda!” Loki protested, but it was too late. Angrboda grabbed him by the throat and pressed him into the wall of the cabin. She licked his cheek, then forced her mouth on his. She brought her tall body against him, pressing her hips against his, sliding her hand against his thigh and across to his crotch. Loki gasped, and Angrboda slid her tongue between his lips.

“Your body doesn’t call me sister,” she whispered huskily against his mouth. Loki closed his eyes and willed himself to not respond, but Angrboda had truly become a woman in his absence, and knew exactly how to touch a man to elicit a response. “You can have your Aesir wife, Loki. She can stay in Asgard, and give the Allfather heirs to his throne. But you will always belong to me.”

XXX

Eira sat up in bed, uncertain what had wakened her. Despite that, she began to get out of bed and get ready to ride to Valkyrjahús. She checked on Leif, and seeing he was sleeping soundly, tiptoed out of his room. She slipped from their rooms and headed toward the stable. Fandral was saddling his horse when she arrived.

“What is calling you away?” Eira asked, her voice still gravelly from sleep.

“I suspect the same thing as you. War on Vanaheim. Hogun called for Thor earlier, and Volstagg and I are just readying ourselves to follow now. Perhaps we should have made haste, if you are already being called to duty,” Fandral replied. Eira rubbed the sleep from her eyes and saddled Fleygur.

“Ride with me to Valkyrjahús, and we will know more. Bryn will have spoken to Heimdall, and will know what we are headed for,” Eira suggested. Fandral nodded.

“I doubt he will open the Bifrost for us until you are there. Let’s ride.” He mounted up and kicked his heels into his horse, urging her forward. Eira finished saddling Fleygur quickly, and followed. They rode toward the longhouse quickly, without a word between them, and Fandral allowed her the lead as they drew up to the building. She dismounted and entered, gesturing for him to wait.

“Bryn, what is the word? Fandral rode with me. He says it is war on Vanaheim?” Eira asked. Bryn nodded, pulling her arming tunic over her head.

“The Jotun invaded. Heimdall says he can’t see what prompted it.” Bryn strapped her leg armour on. “Tell Fandral to be careful. The Jotun have the power of the ice, and can form weapons from thin air.” Eira nodded and stepped back into the night.

“It’s a Jotun invasion. Please be careful.” Eira felt tears fill her eyes, and dashed them away. Fandral stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Those tears are not for me, my goddess. What troubles you?” He asked. Eira sighed and looked away.

“Loki has been gone for weeks, I know not where. And now there is war. He could be in danger,” Eira wiped her eyes again. Fandral drew her into his arms, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“Loki is a strong fighter. And a better tactician. He will not be in danger, Eira. You must focus on keeping yourself safe. The Vanir will have want of a healer tonight,” Fandral reassured her. “Now go arm, and stand ready with your sisters. I will see you at the Bifrost.”

Eira returned to the house and began arming. Most of the other Valkyries were almost ready, but a few lagged behind. And Eira had always maintained her armour well enough that she could arm quickly. She was only a moment behind the slowest, and was up on Fleygur before the last of the women had saddled their mounts. They rode hard to the Bifrost and Fandral winked when she rode alongside him. 

“If you need protection when you are about your healing, I will stay with you, Eira.” He urged his mount to the front of the group, and waited with Volstagg for the Bifrost to open. Kara nudged between Eira and Bryn and elbowed Eira.

“What was that about, litla systir?” Her eyebrow arched and she shot a meaningful glance toward Fandral.

“He worries that I am distracted because Loki is still not home,” Eira offered.

“Is that all? He never offered to protect me.” Kara kicked the side of her horse as the Bifrost opened and they rode across the rainbow bridge to Vanaheim. Eira followed, confused by Kara’s suggestion. 

They landed far from the battle, and rode hard toward the noise. When they came upon the war field, there was confusion all around. Thor and Hogun were at the centre of the battle and Volstagg and Fandral were fighting their way toward them. Eira caught sight of Sif cornered by three Jotun warriors and worried that the woman was done for. But with one swing of the double bladed sword she usually wielded, she struck down all three of them, and made her way back to her usual shieldbrothers. Eira watched in stunned silence. Every wave of Jotun that the Vanir hewed down was replaced with another, and another, the bodies of the Jotun crumbling like so much ice as they were struck. 

Freya rode up to Bryn and Eira, as she often did when they were waiting.

“I’m not sending a lot of Jotun souls that will be carried tonight,” she commented.

“No. Neither am I,” Bryn admitted. “Eira?” Eira closed her eyes and cast her magic across the field. It was a spell she had been working on, secretly, for months. It would heal the least wounded, but make them sleep, calming the battle sooner. She’d been sure to keep it weak enough that it would not affect what the Norns had dictated for the battle, but it helped her to triage the wounded when the spell bounced back to her, as it gave her an idea of how much work she had, and what kind of wounds were still out there. But it was a spell that required concentration as it went out, and she focused on it with all her ability.

What returned to her was stunning.

“There are only four Jotun out there,” Eira breathed. Freya and Bryn’s heads whipped over to look at her.

“What?” It was in unison. Had it not been for the circumstance, Eira would have laughed.

“There are only four Jotun out there. Each wave is an illusion. It’s shadow magic.” Eira was astonished. She closed her eyes and sent out another wave of magic, seeking the shadowmage. Her magic hit a barrier spell and pushed back hard enough that she rocked in the saddle. Her eyes snapped open. She tasted licorice in the back of her throat. “No.” The word was barely a whisper.

“No what?” Bryn demanded. Eira kicked Fleygur’s haunches, urging him forward into the battle. “Eira, you’re mad! What do you think you are doing?”

“I must speak to Thor!” Eira called back and continued forward into the battle. She struck down every warrior that came at her with reckless barrier spells. When she got close to Thor, she threw herself off Fleygur and slapped his haunches “Back to Bryn!” Fleygur didn’t wait to be told a second time, and reeled back toward the leader of the Valkyries. Eira ran to the centre of the warriors three and cast a barrier spell over them, Sif and Thor. Jotun warriors started bouncing off the shield, and the white noise of the battle fell away, leaving them in silence. Thor turned around, puzzled. When his eyes lit on Eira he fell back a step.

“Sister! Are you a fool?”

“Thor, I must have words with you!” Eira pulled him away from the other fighters, and pulled his head down to hers. “There are only four Jotun out there. The rest is illusion.”

“That’s not possible. The Jotun don’t have any shadowmages, Eira.” Thor glanced around and watched as the Jotun bounced off the barrier spell and vanished.

“When I cast to feel the souls of the dead and dying, I felt no Jotun. And then I cast again, and ran into a strong barrier. It left a taste of licorice in my throat.” Eira wasn’t sure if Thor would understand the significance of the statement. He stared at her blankly, confirming her suspicion. “Loki’s magic smells and tastes of licorice, Thor.”

Thor pushed her away, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you suggest that this is Loki’s work?”

“Do you think I want to? Thor, he is my husband! But he has been gone for weeks now. With no word. And now, in this battle on Vanaheim, I can taste his magic everywhere!” Eira exclaimed.

“Perhaps you miss him so much that –“

“If that were so, I would smell him in our rooms, taste his magic whenever I was around his belongings. But that is not so. This has Loki’s magical signature, Thor. I don’t know why, but he is here.” Eira shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. She could feel her barrier spell weakening and knew she had to muster something catastrophic to counter the Jotun barrier spell and convince Thor that Loki was there. She feared he was being forced to participate against his will. “I need to draw from your magic.”

“I don’t have magic, Eira.” Thor shook his head. Eira rolled her eyes.

“Both your mother and father are sorcerers, Thor. You have magic. You have chosen a warriors path.” Eira grabbed Thor’s hand and pulled from him. When she felt the crackle of electricity that she knew accompanied Mjolnir at times, she forced a strong spell from her. She really only knew healing magic, but so much of it could be altered. She drew from as deep as she could from herself, the spell flying from her free hand out across the battlefield. The Jotun barrier fell. And then, the illusionary spells dropped. Finally, the haze preventing anyone from seeing the Jotun front line fell away. Eira looked across the warfield, and with the keen vision gifted to the Valkyries, she saw her husband. 

He was smiling, holding hands with a Jotun woman. There were two other Jotun with them. She saw Loki take a deep breath, and the smile fell from his face. His eyes narrowed and he looked around, trying to find her. Finally, he focused his gaze at Eira and the warriors surrounding her. They widened when he saw her, his face flushing. He dropped the hand of the woman beside him and turned, his coat kicking out in a circle behind him. With a wave of his hand, Loki and his entourage vanished. 

“Oh Loki.” Eira wanted to cry. She dropped Thor’s hand and made her way slowly back toward the Valkyries. Bryn was standing beside her horse, holding Fleygur’s reins.

“What did you do, Eira?” Freya demanded. “There are no dead.”

“Then there were not intended to be. This battle was not chosen by the Norns, so no men should have died.” Eira stepped up onto Fleygur’s back and rode toward the Bifrost site without another word.

“But the wounded, Eira?” Bryn called.

“The Vanir are remarkable healers. They don’t need the likes of me.” She kicked Fleygur to a gallop. When she arrived at the Bifrost site, she called to Heimdall. “I’m sure you saw all that. Heimdall, please bring me home.”

The Bifrost opened and transported her back to Asgard. She didn’t bother riding to Valkyrjahús to stow her armour, but headed straight to the palace. She handed the care of Fleygur off to a groom, something she never did, and made her way to her rooms. The handmaid watching over Leif shrieked when she walked in. Eira dismissed her with a wave, and starting pulling off armour, letting it fall where it may. Once she was down to her arming shift and pants, she went into Leif’s room. She smoothed his soft red hair, and lifted him to her chest. He snuggled against her and sucked his fingers. She leaned back in the comfortable chair in the room and let the silent tears of betrayal fall.


	7. Chapter 7

“What you are suggesting is more than just the mischief of a busy mind, Eira, you understand that?” Odin spoke slowly, and quietly. Their heads were close, despite the throne room being conspicuously empty, even of guards.

“I would not dare breathe it, but for you, All-father. I would –“ Eira trailed off, looking down at Leif. Her eyes filled with tears. “I would that it were not true. But I smelled and tasted Loki all over that battle. And when my magic broke through the glamour of the illusion, I saw him with my own eyes.”

“This is a very serious charge, Eira.” There was nearly no sound to Odin’s voice, no tone to betray his emotions. “How can I be sure that you are not perpetuating a tale to be freed from one son to join with the other? I’ve seen that you and Thor have reconciled.”

Eira was so astonished that her hand snaked out to slap Odin’s face before she realized what she had done. She immediately recoiled, throwing herself in front of Leif, unsure if Odin would kill her or her son in retaliation for the bold act. Odin surprised her by laughing. Eira rolled back on her heels and stared at him.

“If I ever needed reassurance that my son’s wife was loyal, you certainly gave it. Eira who fought the match, now so loyal that she forgets who she assaults.” His chuckle did not reassure her that there wouldn’t be a grave repercussion for the act. He placed a hand on her shoulder and Eira fought the urge to flinch away, and awaited her punishment, reminding herself that as a Valkyrie, she was one of the only Aesir with more power than Odin. Even Odin could not resurrect the dead. And when Odin died, she would be among the women carrying him to his reward. “Relax, child, I deserved it.”

“But what will you do about Loki, All-father?” Eira asked, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. Leif threw himself into her arms and kissed her cheeks with the exuberance of a toddler.

“Yes, Father. Do tell. What will you be doing about me?” Loki’s voice filled the chamber, and Eira spun in surprise. She had thought he wouldn’t return. “Will you annul my marriage, and steal my family from me as punishment? Or will you bind me from using my magic? Tell us both, Father. How will you control your wild son?” He was angry. Eira could see the signs in how his hands shook, so faintly it would have escaped the casual observer’s notice. In how his appearance was somewhat unkempt, like he’d rushed back to Asgard, once he’d finally decided to come. But it had been days since the battle, so he hadn’t exactly hurried home. Eira looked away, so filled with hurt that she couldn’t bear to see him any longer. 

“Why would I see fit to punish you now, when I have never punished you before, Loki?” Odin asked. Loki and Eira both started.

“But –“

“What?” Eira and Loki spoke at the same time, their words lost to one another.

“Loki, this is not the first time you’ve created mischief on another world. This is, however, the worst your tendency for the dramatic has wrought. But it is your first major offense, my son. There is no need for heavy-handed punishments. This time. But you and I must speak.” Odin arched his eyebrow, sliding a sidelong glance at Eira, who had returned to minding Leif.

“No, Father. Anything you say to me you can say in front of Eira.” Loki crossed his arms over his chest, shooting Odin an arch look. Odin sighed heavily.

“Who is the woman?” Odin demanded.

“What woman?” Loki feigned innocence.

“The woman Eira saw you with,” Odin snapped. “I have often thought I was wrong to bind you, but not because I ever doubted your love for Eira. You have given me reason so see how wrong I was. Who is the woman?” Odin roared the question, startling Leif into crying. Eira flinched and scooped the boy in her arms.

“Angrboda has been my friend for hundreds of years. Whenever I retreat, I spend some time with her.” Loki turned to Eira, “She means nothing to me.”

Eira looked up and then away, sure he was lying. She let out a huff of air and rocked Leif some more, soothing the last of his tears away. He looked over her shoulder and his face lit up. Suddenly, he was a squirmy, happy, writhing mass, trying to get to his father.

“Papa! Papa!” He reached over Eira’s shoulders toward Loki. Loki’s hard façade crumbled, and he lifted the boy into his arms. Leif dropped a sloppy, wet kiss on each of Loki’s cheeks and then on his mouth. Loki laughed and held Leif over his head. Eira’s heart tightened, in fear and relief. He hadn’t forgotten his son, at least.

“How you’ve grown! You’ve your mama’s red hair. You’ll have fire in you, Leif,” Loki brought Leif down into his arms again and kissed his forehead. Leif’s hands tangled in the hair at the nape of Loki’s neck. 

“Papa stay?” He asked, eyes wide.

“When did he start speaking so well?” Loki asked. Eira forced a smile and sighed.

“A few weeks ago. He is clever. Picks up new words every day,” she offered. Loki smiled and pushed a stray curl off Leif’s forehead.

“Of course he does.” Loki pulled Leif’s fingers from his mouth and rocked him a little. Typical of a toddler, Leif was changeable, and suddenly was squirming to get down. As soon as Loki placed him on the floor he was back into his wooden dragon and horse toy, smashing them together, one finger in his mouth.

Odin surveyed the family, very aware that Loki had lied to his wife. And aware that Eira knew she had been lied to. Her shoulders were squared, and she remained tense, despite a noble attempt at appearing relaxed. Loki, on the other hand, had thrown his cares to the wind as soon as Odin said there would be no punishment for his actions. He was going to have to mind his son for a while, and ensure he did not betray Eira.

Loki looked over his shoulder at Odin in question.

“Is that all, Father? May I take my family to our chambers that we may be reacquainted?” 

“Of course, Loki. Eira, I will send a missive to Brynhildr that you will be absent from any duties for at least a sennight.” Odin snapped and one of his ravens flapped over to the throne, perching on the back and waiting. Eira was so surprised she wasn’t sure what to say, but followed Loki from the throne room.

XXX

“What were you doing on that battlefield, Eira?” Loki exploded as soon as Leif was down for his nap.

“I should ask you the same thing!” Eira retorted in surprise.

“I saw you holding my brother’s hand,” Loki accused. Eira snorted in response. It was undignified but she couldn’t help herself.

“I was channeling his magic to break down your magic!” She exclaimed. “As you are well aware, only my healing magic is stronger than yours. I had to steal from Thor in order to break your illusionary spells!”

“And why were you there?” Loki spat, forgetting himself. He drew up close to her, attempting to intimidate her. Eira rose, and stood to her full height, jaw set like stone. She was nearly as tall as he was. She placed a hand over her heart and forced her way into his chest with her energy. She felt it wrap around his heart, slowing it so that he was on the verge of death. His eyes widened and she raised an eyebrow. She felt the itch on her back that had always signaled that the warrior she held was dying or dead, and Loki’s eyes widened further. He was seeing her wings unfurl. Only the dying ever saw them. The living, even among the Aesir, didn’t believe the Valkyries had wings.

“Ask me again why I was there, Loki,” Eira snarled. “I had every right to be there, tending to the dead. Dead you would have been responsible for. Perhaps you would like to explain yourself. I have made my case and am above reproach. Do not seek to chastise me again.” She pulled her hand away, allowing the coil of her spell to unwrap from his heart slowly. Loki collapsed to the floor, clutching at his chest.

“How could –“

“I have never given you a reason to question me, Loki. Never. When you brother sought to steal me back after we were bound, I pushed him away. When I fled to Vanaheim, and you sought me out, I returned with you and happily wed you. I have spent hours of every day helping you, encouraging you and leading you to your son. As son you gained through treachery and deceit. So don’t you ever question me and my motives again, Loki.” She placed her hands on her hips and looking down on him, not even caring to monitor his recovery. “You, on the other hand, lied to me and your father. And I will know who that woman was. And I will know the truth of your relationship with her. And you will tell me. Now.”

Loki rolled back onto his heels and glared up at Eira.

“You have made your point. I am wrong.” He rubbed at the spot over his heart, as though there was residual pain. There may have been. Eira had not dulled sensation for him. “Angrboda and I have been companions since I was old enough to retreat. I had never thought anything of her prior to this. This visit, she had clearly aged into adulthood. She had more mischief to her nature, more desire to cause trouble. Vanaheim was the result of two trouble-making minds getting carried away.”

“I feel it prudent to mention that I saw you holding her hand,” Eira arched an eyebrow. “Since you were so angry that I held Thor’s.”

“And it was for the same reason.” Loki was too quick to reply. Eira pursed her lips in disbelief.

“We are bound, Loki. I know when you lie.”

“Angrboda claims that she –“ Loki started and then stopped. He bit his lip and sighed. “She threatened to eat me.” Eira’s eyes widened, sensing the truth of the statement. 

“And?”

“I did what I had to do in order to survive. So that I could come home.” He looked down, unable to make eye contact. “I am sorry.” Eira closed her eyes and felt the waves of regret coming off of Loki. They washed over her, and she knew what he said was true. Her shoulders slumped.

“I –“ Eira looked away and walked across the room. Loki could see the tears in her eyes before she turned. He pushed back up to his feet, and crossed the floor in three steps. He slid a hand along her shoulder, pushing her hair off her neck and dropping his lips to the place where the shoulder and neck met. His hands slipped around her waist and he leaned his head again hers, sighing in contentment.

“Tonight you held my heart in your hand, Eira,” he laughed, uncomfortable with the recollection of Eira’s demonstration. “But you’ve held it for so much longer, my love. Since the first day we met, you’ve had the ability to stop it in one act. I would never deliberately hurt you, Eira. But I am a fool.”

“You are a fool,” she agreed, her tone still hard.

“And mischief prone,” he added. She nodded against his head. “And the god of lies, some say.”

“Mischief and lies are not one and the same.” Eira finally relaxed into his arms. “Promise me you love me.”

“I love you more than anything in the nine realms, Eira.” He kissed her neck again.

“And you’ll always love me?”

Loki sighed and turned her to face him. He placed her hand over his heart and his own hand over hers. His magic bumped against hers, coiling around it, and pulling it through his hand and her hand and into his chest. It settled around his heart. “Now, instead of trying to crush the life out of it this time, let your magic blend with mind, and just feel.”

Eira felt her hand grow warm as a swell of heat entered her magic. There was a cascade of what felt like bubbles, and the warm glow of licorice. She heard her name whispered across her ears, rhythmically. “What is –“

“That is my heart. It whispers your name when it beats. Just yours. Always yours. Until Ragnarok.”

Eira’s eyes filled with tears again.


	8. Chapter 8

It rarely rained in the golden city, but the sky was overcast and there was a dreary drizzle that would not let up. It reminded Eira so much of Midgard, where the relentless spring rains would taper off to a fine spray. Leif was playing in the garden, building mountains of muck where there had previously been just dry soil. Eira shook her head, dreading his evening bath, but made no move to stop him. 

Loki looked over the rail of the balcony into the garden below and laughed. Eira was tucked up under a tree, avoiding as much of the rain as she could, despite arguing earlier that she was enjoying it. Leif was blowing raspberries as he mushed his wooden dragon into the mud.

“He looks like a dirt troll,” Loki called down to his wife. She smiled and looked up.

“I think it will be Daddy’s turn to bathe him tonight,” she taunted.

“You should come in before you get a chill, Eira,” Loki called, noticing the bite in the air. Eira laughed.

“Only because you do not wish to rinse half of the garden off your son!” Regardless, she rose, and wrapped Leif in linen before lifting him to her chest. She disappeared under the balcony. Loki made his way back into their rooms, and rang for a hot bath for Leif. The handmaiden arrived with the tub at the same time that Eira and Leif entered the rooms. 

Loki made quick work of stripping the boy of his filthy clothing, and plunked him down in the tub, watching the water discolour immediately. Leif laughed and splashed, a wriggling test of Loki’s patience. Eventually he was clean, and Loki lifted him from the tub and toweled him off, dressing him for bed.

“Is it too early for him to say goodnight, Eira?” Loki asked. The sun had barely set. Eira peeked around the corner and shook her head.

“He hasn’t napped today and he teethes again. It is best we put him down now,” she offered. Loki nodded and tucked the boy into his bed after giving him a gentle kiss goodnight. Leif reached up and grabbed his face before Loki could rise to leave.

“Papa!” Leif pulled Loki’s face back down to his and shared another sloppy kiss before releasing him and waving goodbye. Loki staggered out of the nursery, pale and surprised.

“You did not tell me he is speaking, Eira.”

“Because he is not, Loki.” Eira looked confused.

“He just called me Papa.” Loki flopped onto the chaise beside Eira. She put down the tome she was reading from and took his hands in hers.

“I admit I am jealous that his first words were not to me,” Eira laughed. “But I am glad he’s reminding you of who you are.”

“Eira, not now.” Loki’s tone turned sharp and Eira flinched.

“That’s not what I meant, Loki.” She picked her book up and rose, moving across the room to a small chair Loki would not be able to share with her. Loki sighed, frustration clouding his judgment.

“Then what did you mean?” He demanded. Eira closed the book and carefully put it down on the table beside her chair.

“I meant that we are all in need of reminders that we have greater purpose than just what we think. I am more than the sum of my desires. I am a mother, a healer, a Valkyrie. So I must balance all those things,” Eira began. “You have struggled ever since Leif was born, to accept this new role of father. It is good that Leif recognizes you as his Papa because it will help to remind you that you have greater responsibilities than just what you desire.”

“And if you are what I desire?” Loki cocked an eyebrow.

“Your desire for me is what made you a father, Loki,” Eira laughed. Loki shook his head.

“You do not understand –“

“Then show me, Loki. You keep saying I don’t understand, you keep insisting that I couldn’t possibly know what it must mean to be you, but you’ve yet to show me how you are so different from anyone that your needs must supersede mine, or Leif’s. Show me why you are more important.” The words cut, but Eira’s tone was gentle. Loki could see her hands shaking, and knew she was on the verge of losing her temper again, despite the softness of her voice.

“You are right, of course. Eira, you are always right. My needs are no more important than yours,” he surrendered, not wishing to see her wings unfurl again so soon. Eira sighed and stalked across the room.

“You turn me into the enemy with your words, Loki.” She took his hands in hers again. “I do not understand your constant contradictions. You are gentle with your son, and obviously love him, and you show me how your heart whispers my name, but you push us both away more than you hold us close. Do we truly make you so unhappy?”

Loki pulled away and sat down, putting his head in his hands. He said nothing, instead rubbing his temples. Finally, he looked up at her and sighed again.

“We are barely more than children, Eira. You do not make me unhappy. Leif does not make me unhappy. I look on my beautiful family and feel joy and pride.” 

“But?”

“By no fault of your own, I feel imprisoned.” The admission lifted a huge burden from his shoulders. He met Eira’s steady gaze. She bit her lip and nodded.

“I will ask the All-father to break our bond,” she resolved. “Leif and I will go back to my mother’s. You can visit as often as you like.”

“That’s not what –“

“I will not be your jailer, Loki.” Eira shook her head. “I will not spend the rest of your life apologizing for who I am, what I was made by your father. I cannot waste my life away worrying that my words have cut the young prince of Asgard. I love you. But I cannot live like this.”

Loki roared to his feet, losing his temper. “Nothing I do is good enough for you, Eira! I am a failure as a father, as a husband, as a lover! You always see fit to remind me of those failings!”

“I could say the same of you, Loki. Constantly reminding me that you used to have freedom before I came along, that no one questioned your whereabouts or behaviour before I was in your world. I would remind you, Loki, you chose me!” Eira turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Loki strode over and placed a hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to shrug it off. She didn’t.

“I have ruined us both then.” His hand withdrew from her shoulder. Eira turned and took it in her own, squeezing his fingers.

“Don’t do this, Loki. Please. Choose us.”

“I will never be good enough, Eira. And your goodness cannot balance my deficit.” He took her face between his hands and kissed her. It was overpowering, brutal, heartbreaking. He broke away and strode from the room, his magic in a storm cloud around him, cold and bleak as the rains outside.

 

XXX

 

Eira knelt before Odin, waiting his leave to speak. She had been kneeling for what felt like ages, but she knew it had been only been a few minutes. Frigga jiggled Leif on her lap, rolling her eyes at Odin’s stubborn desire to make Eira wait.

“Rise and approach, daughter,” Frigga overrode Odin, beckoning to Eira to join her. Odin spared a glare at his wife before resuming his stoic forward glare, not noticing the happenings of the court around him. Eira joined Frigga meekly on the dais. Frigga placed an arm around her, kissing her forehead. “And so he has run off again?”

“I’m afraid so, my queen,” Eira couldn’t make eye contact with Frigga. She didn’t want to see the pity in the queen’s eyes.  
“I love my son dearly, Eira. But that doesn’t mean I agree with his behaviour. He has ever been my wild boy. The instant there has been an expectation on him, he has done the opposite. I had such hopes that your marriage would change him,” Frigga sighed, nuzzling Leif. Leif squealed and giggled, trying to get away from his grandmother’s tickles.

“He has moments when he is the most considerate man I’ve ever known. The most attentive of fathers. The gentlest of lovers. And in the next minute, he rails against the prison of our bond. I can’t live like this.” Eira felt shame in admitting defeat, and still could not meet Frigga’s eyes. Frigga placed a hand beneath her chin and tilted it up, forcing Eira to meet her gaze.

“That is not your failure, Eira.” She handed Leif back to Eira and rose. Placing a hand on Odin’s shoulder, she snapped him out of whatever thought he was lost in. “What have you seen, husband?” Eira’s eyes widened in realization. Odin was not ignoring her; he was using his magic to look beyond the walls of the palace.

“Our son has betrayed his wife, and returns to the witch who led him astray,” Odin spoke. The words cut Eira and she flinched. Odin continued, as though he had not noticed Eira was there. “The witch is great with child, a monster. Loki’s monster offspring, as foretold by the Norns.”

Eira bit back a gasp of despair, and held Leif close to her. Odin finally looked at her, realizing she was there. “I do not often apologize for my decisions, Eira, so hear me now and understand I will never utter these words again. I was wrong to bind you to my son. I was wrong to think you could change what was written for him. At every turn, I have used you for the gain of my family, and I am sorry for the destruction I have wrought in your life. I free you of your bond to my son. I free you from service as a Valkyrie. I free you from all obligation to Asgard.”

“No!” Eira cried, feeling the wrenching pain of her Valkyrie’s wings as they tore from her shoulders. She collapsed to the floor, clutching Leif close. Odin tapped Gungnir on the ground and Eira writhed with the pain of the loss. Frigga scrambled to her knees and pulled Eira into her lap, glaring up at Odin in question.

“She did not ask to be freed from her Valkyrie’s bond! What were you thinking?” Frigga demanded. Eira’s cries of pain settled into quiet sobs as Frigga cast a calming pain control spell across her back. The gilded doors to court swung open and Brynhildr and ten other Valkyries rushed in, without reverencing the throne.

“What is the meaning of this?” Brynhildr demanded, noting Eira’s prone form in Frigga’s arms. “Does she yet live?” Frigga nodded.

“Eira has been freed of her bonds,” Odin answered simply. Brynhildr climbed the dais to face Odin, her height matching his. Her wings unfurled menacingly.

“We had no reason to request her release. She has fulfilled her duties. Explain yourself,” Bryn demanded. Behind her, the other Valkyries clustered around Frigga and Eira. Kara scooped Leif up in her arms and kissed his brow, settling him with a slightly bounce and sway of her hips. Beyond them, the court was beginning to fill with onlookers, wondering about the fuss. Sif and the warriors three pushed their way forward. Fandral blanched at the scene in front of them.

“You forget your place, Valkyrie –“ Odin spat. Bryn squared her jaw and shook her head.

“You forget yours, King. We are in your service only as long as you draw breath. I have been in your service, but I also served your father before you. And his before him. And when this world is unmade, I will serve them all again. But should you not explain your actions in this moment, I will ensure no Valkyrie carries your lifeless shell to Valhalla when your time comes. And thus, my service to you will never be repeated,” Bryn threatened. Odin’s eyes narrowed, fire behind their depths.

“You would unmake me, for your erstwhile sister? For the girl who refused to serve for so long?”

“I would unmake you for my friend, who has served with honour despite the betrayal’s heaped upon her by the house of Odin,” Bryn agreed.

“It is such a betrayal that has freed her. And what I have done, I cannot undo. Eira has been freed of her bonds. All of them.” Odin stepped back from Brynhildr and slumped into his throne.

“All of them?” Bryn questioned.

“To you, to me, to Loki.” Odin took a long drink from his cup, exhausted.

“And to Midgard?”

“I cannot break a bond I did not create,” Odin replied.

“And will she still be allowed to tend the wounded and sick?” Bryn demanded. Eira looked up, trying to follow Bryn’s conversation with the Allfather.

“Midgard has made her a goddess. I did not. As long as they call for her, she is free to go to them,” Odin nodded. “A twelfth will be called to you within the fortnight, Brynhildr. Be gone from my sight before I see fit to punish your impertinence.”

Bryn snorted in derision. “You can try, old man. But the Norns will not allow you to meddle in the affairs of Valkyries so quickly again.” She turned and stalked down the stairs from the throne. She stopped and laid a hand on Eira’s shoulder. “You will ever be my sister, Eira.”

Kara passed Leif on to Fandral as Bryn gestured to the other Valkyries to follow her from court. Fandral stepped closer to Frigga, and knelt down beside Eira.

“Can you walk, Eira?” He murmured quietly.

“I’ll bloody well walk out of here,” she gasped, pushing herself to her feet. Fandral caught her elbow with his hand and helped her to her feet. He bowed to Frigga and, slipping and arm around Eira’s waist, led her back to Hogun, Volstagg and Sif. The friends flanked Fandral and Eira and escorted them out of court.

“Eira, your back bleeds,” Sif commented as they made their way down the hall towards Eira’s rooms.

“My wings were torn off with the Allfather’s edict.” Eira’s voice was soft, and laboured.

“Tell us how to treat the wound,” Sif demanded. Eira shook her head.

“I don’t know. My mother might.”

“I’ll ride out and bring her,” Sif determined. Eira shook her head.

“Fandral will take me to her. Please collect my things, and meet us there?” Eira asked. She was barely able to move, her eyes glazed over with pain.

“That will not be necessary.” Frigga appeared at the doors to Eira’s quarters. “Eira, you must stay here until the wound heals. I will tend it myself. Sif, go collect Halla, as I will need her expertise. Hogun, Volstagg, if you would watch the door. Let no one through.” Frigga led Eira and Fandral toward the bed. 

“What would you have me do, Allmother?” Fandral asked. Frigga’s smile was sad.

“First, settle Leif to his bed. We will wait for you,” Frigga nodded toward the nursery. Fandral slipped into the nursery and returned a few minutes later. “Now throw open the bed, and help me to lay her down. We’ll need to undress her.”

“Perhaps Sif should have stayed?” Fandral paled.

“Do not think I have not seen how to look upon my son’s wife, Fandral?” Frigga unfastened the brooches holding Eira’s hangarok straps. Eira held her arms up as Frigga slipped the apron over her head.

“I have never –“ Fandral began to protest.

“I know, Fandral. And you never would have either. And so I trust you to assist me now. We need to lay her on her stomach.” Frigga laid Eira on her side, and gestured to Fandral to help turn her. Once Eira was laid down, she pulled a small knife from a sheath at her ankle and cut the back of the tunic, tearing it open. The wound to Eira’s back was gory, with what looked like broken bones protruding from it. Fandral blanched and looked away. Eira’s hand sought his and he looked down at her pale face, streaked with tears.

“Let me die, Fandral,” she breathed. He shook his head, his own eyes filling with tears. He sat down on the bed beside her and smoothed her red curls off her forehead.

“No, Eira. You are finally free. I will help you live,” he promised, and pressed his lips to her cool forehead. She blinked slowly, her breathing shallow.

“Will you take care of Leif? He’ll need someone to teach him weapons.” She ignored his words, focusing on planning her son’s future.

“I think you are more than capable of teaching him to manage a sword. And a spear,” he responded.

“And tell Bryn she will always be my sister too?” Eira’s pain was clouding her ability to hear Fandral’s reassurances. Fandral looked up to Frigga, panic in his eyes.

“Is she dying?” He demanded.

“I can only treat the physical wound, Fandral.” Frigga laid her hands on either side of the gash in Eira’s back, slowly forcing her magic into the mess. Eira gasped, and Frigga’s brow knit. The pinched tension in Eira’s shoulders began to relax. Sif threw open the doors and Halla rushed to the bedside. “Something for pain, Halla.”

Halla already had her pouch open, and forced a small wad of green under Eira’s tongue. “Massage her throat, Fandral. Help her to swallow.” Halla went to work cleaning around the wound bed, and lending her meager healing magic to Frigga’s more powerful seidr. The wound started to close in earnest, a few small auxiliary bones from Eira’s wings popping free before the skin closed completely. Eira’s breathing slowed and became deeper, her grip on Fandral’s hand relaxing. Frigga sat back on her heels and wiped the sweat from her forehead, sparing a quick glance at Halla. Halla was staring at Eira, tears in her eyes.

“What happened?” She turned her gaze to Frigga.

“It is a long story. Come with me, and I will see you fed, and share the tale,” Frigga offered. Halla looked back to Eira and her eyes pleaded with Fandral.

“I’m not going anywhere, Halla,” he reassured her. When the two women left the room, he stretch out on the bed beside Eira and pulled her into his arms, hoping his embrace would comfort her as she slept.


	9. Chapter 9

Eira was falling. She couldn’t remember how it had started, whether she had carelessly wandered too close to the edge of a cliff or had been bucked from Fleygur’s back, but she was falling. And she couldn’t see the bottom of whatever abyss she was descending through. Her breath caught and she held out her arms, to see if she could get purchase, and somehow stop her descent. But there was nothing. She screamed, hoping someone would hear her, but there was blackness all around her, and her screams fell away in the darkness. 

She shot up in bed, breathless, and disoriented. There was a warm, distinctly masculine shape in the bed next to her and she snuggled back into Loki, exhausted from the nightmare and wanting to fall back asleep. Except that Loki was far too warm. And he smelled nothing of licorice. She pushed away in confusion. She strained her eyes in the dim moonlight and saw the handsome features of Fandral, relaxed in sleep.

Eira scrambled to the edge of the bed and rose, halfway across the room before her heartbeat settled. What was Fandral doing in her bed? Where was Loki? She sunk to the chaise in sudden recollection of the previous day’s happenings, a dull ache between her shoulder blades reminding her of the shame Odin brought down on her. She hung her head in her hands and let the tears flow. She didn’t notice as Fandral settled onto chaise beside her until his warm arm wrapped around her shoulders, and pulled him near her. He rubbed her back, careful to avoid the freshly healed wound.

“Eira, you’ll make yourself sick,” he murmured against her hair.

“Why didn’t you just let me die?” She wept, her heart tight in her chest, feeling as though it was breaking a second time.

“Because goddesses don’t lose their will to live over a man,” Fandral chided, a teasing lilt in his voice. Eira looked up at him, her tear-stained face shining in the low light.

“He took my wings, Fandral.” The words were heavy in her mouth and the pain of the loss renewed itself with them. Fandral cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes.

“Are you more upset by the loss of your wings or the loss of your husband?” He was curious. Even in the low light, he could see that Eira paled with the question. A silence hung heavy between them, and drew out into minutes as she considered her answer.

“My entire relationship with Loki was predicated on a lie, Fandral. There was fire and passion, but those things burn too hot, too fast.”

“But you love him, Eira, we all could see it.”

“I do, but everything is a fight with him. I did not see this coming so quickly. And I had hoped I was wrong, that it would never come to pass. But I would be lying if I said I did not see it coming,” Eira explained. “Which makes the loss of my status as a Valkyrie all the worse. I had always thought that when Loki finally left, I would take up where I left off, and continue with my sisters. Sadder, but wiser.”  
Fandral wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled her close. “You remain a goddess, Eira.”

“For how much longer? The whispered prayers to the Valkyries have become mingled with prayers to another. I am only a goddess as long as they need me. And then what value have I?” She shook her head.

“You will ever be the goddess of healing, Eira,” Fandral smoothed her hair off her face.

“A fine thing for you to say, Fandral. You do not know their hearts,” Eira scoffed.

“Ah, but I know mine. And you will always be my goddess of healing, Eira,” he laughed. “You forget, I have seen your wings in all their glory, as a man desperate for Valhalla. I will always need you.”

“Then you must never die, Fandral, or I should lose my worth.” Eira’s laugh was soft, but it was reassuring. She seemed to come back to herself, and noticed the tattered tunic hanging from her shoulders. “What is this I am wearing?”

“Frigga needed to heal your wounds. I am ashamed to admit I was too bashful to help her strip you nude, and she chose to cut your tunic instead,” Fandral chuckled.

“You, Fandral, shy about a woman’s body?” Eira snorted in contempt.

“I am not entirely a cad, Eira,” Fandral admonished. He helped her to her feet, steadying her when she swayed on her feet. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He led her over to the bed, and tucked her in, smoothing the hair off her forehead and dropping a gentle kiss on it. He rose to head over to the chaise, his urge to protect Eira at all cost quelled by their talk.

“Do not go far, Fandral?” Eira called quietly. Fandral cleared his throat.

“I will be on the chaise, should you need me,” he agreed.

XXX

“Couldn’t stay away, lover?” Angrboda was smug. She knew Loki wouldn’t stay away from her for long once she had lured him into her bed. He stormed across the small cabin, and raised his hand as though to strike her. She cocked an eyebrow and looked pointedly at her increasing belly. “Your seed took hold fast. You wouldn’t strike the mother of your child, would you?”

“You cost me my family, you blue whore,” Loki spat, turning away, clenching his fist. His shoulders were rigid with tension.

“And now you have a new family, so what is the loss?” Angrboda asked. Loki whirled on his heel, glaring.

“Eira is – Eira was – she was everything I ever wanted. And you ruined it with your lies and your subtle seductions!” Loki’s voice roared over the room, the walls shaking. Angrboda shook her head, remaining calm.

“You may be a trickster, and a liesmith, Loki Odinsson, but you cannot lie to yourself. You willingly came to my bed, an eager participant. If anything cost you your family, it was your inability to accept your perfect wife and her perfect love. Because had you accepted that, your prick wouldn’t have been so quick to wander.” Angrboda’s calm was out of character. Loki expected her to rise to his ire and fight back, as she had in the past, but instead, she just patted her pregnant belly. Loki slumped onto a stool and hung his head in his hands.

“What have I done?”

“Come, lover. Come to bed. I will give you children worthy of your line,” Angrboda ran her fingers through Loki’s hair, rubbing his shoulders. “And you will forget your princess in time.”

“That is where you are wrong, Angrboda. My heart will never relinquish Eira. So you will need to be satisfied with my body alone.” Loki spoke into his hands.

“Your body is all I need for my line to continue, Loki. We have ever rubbed along as friends. Lovers are not so different, are they?”

“I will never love you, Angrboda. No matter how many children I sire on you, I will never be your lover.” Loki’s words were filled with hate, but he was unsure whom he hated more. Angrboda, and the ruin her temptation caused, or himself for falling for it.

XXX

Thor threw open the door to Eira’s chambers and stormed in, past Fandral, asleep on the chaise. He dropped to one knee at Eira’s bedside, Mjolnir in front of him and just stared in wonder at her sleeping form. The sound of the door had roused Eira and she rolled onto her side, pushing herself to sitting, and started at Thor’s presence.

“Your Highness. Why are you in my rooms?” Her voice was rough with sleep, and she rubbed her eyes before smoothing her hair off her face. 

“I feared you dead. Sif told me of your fall.” His words were stiff, awkward. Eira shook her head.

“I did not fall, Highness. I was cast down.” Her correction was gentle. She caught her tunic sliding down her shoulders and held it against her chest. Thor leaned forward and pushed the sleeves back up, never breaking eye contact with her.

“I will ever act as your protector, Eira. You need only ask,” he offered, returning his grip to Mjolnir. Eira tilted her head to one side and nodded.

“I shall hope to never need call on your protection, Highness.” She blinked heavily, and glanced over his shoulder, noticing that Fandral had sat up, and was watching the exchange with interest. Thor followed her gaze, and broke into a wide smile.

“Fandral, my sword brother! Thank you for watching over Eira in her need,” Thor approached his friend. Fandral scrambled to his feet to accept Thor’s crushing embrace. “It is well that she has such a champion and friend when I am not here.” Fandral’s smile faltered at Thor’s dismissal.

“Even when you are here, Highness,” Eira clarified, rising to join the two men. “Fandral has ever been a true friend. I trust him with my life.”

Fandral’s shoulders straightened at Eira’s praise. Thor looked between them and smiled at Eira, missing the impact of her words. 

“Mother says,” he paused, unsure how to continue. “Your back. How fares the wound this morning?”

“It aches, Highness. I will ride to Mother’s this afternoon. I have some ideas about how to manage the pain,” Eira answered. Thor’s brows knit together in confusion. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Why such formality between us, Eira? You need not use titles with me, sister.”

“I am no longer your sister, Highness. I am merely one of your many subjects,” Eira looked away, tears filling her eyes.

“You are the mother of my only nephew. A child who, by rights, should have been mine. You will never be merely a subject of Asgard.” Thor squeezed her shoulder in gentle chastisement.

“Regardless, Highness, I am no longer a member of the royal family –“

“You will always be a princess in my eyes, and I will ensure your titles have not been rescinded. You are never to call me Highness again, Eira. I will always, and ever more be, Thor.” His normally booming voice was low, husky with emotion. A single tear escaped Eira’s eye and she bit her lip. “I have business with my father. Fandral, will you see that Eira travels to her mother’s with ease?”

“That was the plan, my prince.” Fandral rolled his eyes over Thor’s shoulder, bringing a slight smile to Eira’s lips. Thor turned to his friend and embraced him again.

“You are a good man, Fandral.” Thor retrieved Mjolnir from the floor and nodded to Eira and Fandral before departing. Eira met Fandral’s gaze and bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing.

“He forgets you were my champion in Vanaheim.” Eira’s amusement made her eyes sparkle.

“He means well, Eira. But he forgets a great deal that does not directly affect Thor,” Fandral laughed in agreement. Eira nodded, pushing her tunic back up her shoulders again.

“I would have a bath, and then if you could help me to ready my things to return to my mother’s?” Eira asked. “I know it is a great favour –“

“No favour is too great, Eira. I will watch Leif while you bathe. We will manage your move together when you are dressed.” Fandral disappeared into the nursery to collect Leif and left as the handmaiden attended to ready Eira’s bath.

XXX

“Eira, you left here with more belongings than this. Surely this is not all?” Halla asked, looking at the packhorse that Eira led behind Fleygur. Eira shook her head.

“The rest will come. For now I just wanted to resettle at home.” She dismounted and tied the packhorse at the hitch. “Fandral said he would be along once it was organized.”

“Do you remember him as a boy? Always in here, something broken. He and Jarni, they were always up to something to taunt death,” Halla laughed. Eira shook her head.

“Perhaps I was too young to recall,” she shrugged.

“Probably for the best. You haunted the boys like a little wraith. Always shadowing their every move. Your father assumed you idolized Jarni, but you were so shy with Fandral. I think you were sweet on him,” Halla laughed as they walked into the house.

“I recall none of this, Mother!” Eira laughed in astonishment. Halla put a plate of bread and honey in front of Leif and offered Eira a cup of mead.

“Fandral is the reason we learned of your healing gift. Jarni swore you raised him from the dead,” Halla began. Eira shook her head and slumped onto a stool.

“What do you speak of, Mother?” Eira’s brows were knit with confusion and worry. Halla sighed and poured herself a cup of mead, bringing a block of cheese and a knife to the table.

“I’m not surprised you don’t remember. The boys couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen summers when it happened, so you would have been five?” Halla looked up, thinking. “Five, I suppose. Jarni had just celebrated his name day, and Sigbjorn had gifted him with a sword. Too much of a sword for a boy, but a sword regardless. The boys had begun training at the palace the previous summer, quickly becoming friends with Thor, and they both were so desperate for the young prince’s favour that they practiced constantly, even when they were away from the palace training yards. I think Jarni wanted to impress young Sif as well, truly, but they both wanted to be as good as Thor, to continue training alongside him.”

“Why wouldn’t I remember?”

“Tell me, Eira, do you remember anything before your sixth summer?” Halla asked. Eira blinked.

“No, but no one does. It was so long ago,” she shrugged.

“When I was four, my mother had twin babies. They were weak, and sickly. They didn’t last more than three weeks before we had to bury them. I can close my eyes and see those sick babies, even today,” Halla illustrated. “You don’t remember because of the events of that summer. Because of how your gift manifested.”

“You have my attention.” Eira took a slice of cheese and chewed it, as Halla began again.

“The boys were playing in the back field. You were hiding up a tree, watching, as far as we ever discovered. I was working in the garden; your father was at the palace. I heard a scream that made my blood run cold. I wasn’t sure which of the three of you it was, but I ran. And what I came upon chilled me to my core. Fandral lay in a pool of his own blood, his entrails beside him, Jarni’s sword discarded on the ground beside him. You were on your knees beside him, sobbing, pushing his guts back inside with your tiny bare hands. Jarni was on his knees, rocking, sobbing that it had been an accident, and all the while you were pushing Fandral’s innards back in, as though that would somehow mend him. And then you went quiet. You looked at Jarni and told him to stop crying and help you. You made him hold the strands of Fandral’s entrails back inside the body cavity, and help you push the skin back together. And then, you laid your hands on his side. Your mouth moved, but no sound came out. You rocked back and forth, like you were trying to force something into him. You were so tiny, and covered in Fandral’s blood. And Fandral had just hit his adult height, and was all pale arms and legs on the ground. I’ll never forget the look of you, red from head to toe, kneeling in his blood; casting magic a little girl had no right to access. I couldn’t move, I was so stunned, and I watched as Fandral’s skin knit back together, with no sign that it had ever split other than the pool of blood he lay in. When the wound was sealed, you fell back, as though lifeless. I finally found my feet and rushed forward, and you were sleeping. Your breathing was slow, and steady. Jarni carried you home, and ran for help for Fandral. By the time your father arrived, Fandral was sitting. He was dizzy, sick. Very tired. He kept saying a tiny Valkyrie had brought him back, but you hadn’t been called yet. It wasn’t until after Odin learned of what you had done that he called you.” Halla sighed and looked out the window.

“Fandral thought I was a Valkyrie?”

“To be fair, other than that you were a tiny girl, you fit the image. You were wild with grief, trying to save him, refusing to let him die. Covered from head to toe in his blood. You slept for nearly a week after. We despaired that you ever would waken again. Frigga herself came to see you, and said your head was busy processing what had happened. She warned us you would be different, when you woke.” Halla refilled their mead cups and sat back down.

“Did anyone ever tell Fandral that it had been me?”  
“No. Fandral’s father and Sigbjorn had always been close, and Jarni was intended for Fandral’s sister. We had hopes that as you got older you and Fandral would make a match, but he’d always seen you as Jarni’s somewhat irritating little sister. After you wakened, Odin called you to the twelve, and that ended any hopes that you would marry. The boys drifted apart after that, I think Jarni couldn’t get past the guilt of what he’d done to his friend. Fandral grew closer to Thor, Jarni focused on taking care of us after your father died. When Fandral’s sister passed from the fever, the boys had nothing left in common and Jarni had no reason to seek Fandral out. He had to keep too many secrets. The secret of Fandral’s healing, the secret of your power, the secret of your call to the Valkyries. He found it easier to spend time on the farm, and serve when necessary, rather than spend time in his cups with his battle brothers. Fandral, of course, knew of his brush with death, but we told him the blood soaked Valkyrie was a hallucination brought on from blood loss, and that I had healed him,” Halla explained.

“Mother, I –“

“We mustn’t speak of this any further, Eira. I see him on the path,” Halla cut her off.

“Of course. Later.” Eira’s look made it clear there was more to discuss, but she rose to meet Fandral before he dismounted from his horse. She had a start, and became short of breath on seeing him walk toward her, but she was uncertain if it was from the tale her mother had just shared or because she was still not feeling fully herself from the incidents of the previous day. Fandral rushed forward on seeing her sway, and steadied her with a hand to her arm.

“You’re pale, Eira. Too much too soon, princess?” Fandral’s tone was teasing, but his hand was strong on her arm.

“There are no princesses here, Fandral,” Eira snorted, and took a deep breath.

“Frigga insisted I carry this with me,” he contradicted, producing her royal coronet from the satchel resting at his hip. Eira stared at it, and shook her head.

“I will return it later.” She took it from him and carried it inside. Fandral followed.

“Eira, I know Thor has promised to champion you, and truly, there could be no one better suited.” Fandral began. Eira nodded, sucking in her lip to chew on it. “But I would have you know, I will never let any harm come to you. Until my last breath takes me, or until Ragnarok comes, I will ever defend your honour.”

“Such honeyed words, Fandral. And when you marry, how will your wife feel about you championing the cast off wife of the second prince?” Eira’s words were more bitter than she’d intended. Fandral shook his head with a laugh.

“I will never marry, Eira. It wasn’t written by the Norns,” his eyes twinkled. “I love too many. And should any of them be jealous of the love I bear you, I should remind them that you are as my sister. Jarni and I were close, when we were children.”

“My mother was just telling me. I never knew.” Eira smiled.

“You were a curious little thing. Always up a tree, watching us.”

“So she said.” Eira wondered how much Fandral remembered, but dared not push.

“At any rate. You have my sword, my princess.”

“I already told you, I am no princess.” Eira flushed.

“My goddess, then. Eira Lifebringer.” He winked and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I’ve secured the stable boys to bring in your things. I must get back to the palace, but I will come check on you soon.”


	10. Chapter 10

The wind howled through the chinks in the cabin walls, chilling Loki to the bone. He’d never known such a cold. Angrboda shook her head and rolled her eyes at his shivers.

“Perhaps the prince should have packed a valise with his winter garments before he ran away from home?” Her words were venomous.

“Perhaps you don’t feel the cold because your heart is made of ice?” Loki snapped back. Angrboda’s mouth crooked in a half-smile and she rubbed her vast belly. She strode across the room in a few steps and struck Loki across the face with the back of her hand.

“I am done with your bile, pretty prince. Go home, if you hate me so. There is nothing here to bind you,” she spat.

“You carry my son.” His voice was flat.

“Or your daughter. But you’re no father; you’ve already proved that when you abandoned your princess. So go, abandon me as well. This child needs no father if that father is spineless and fears the cold.” Her words cut him, and Loki spun on his heel, heading toward the door. “But if you leave now, Loki of Asgard, do not ever return. I will send your son for you, when he is old enough to know what you are. And he will have my revenge.”

Loki slammed the door shut, and stalked toward the witch.

“I will stay, for now. I will prepare this hovel for our child’s arrival. But you will treat me as befits my station as a prince. You will swallow your venomous tongue, and stay your ceaseless censure,” Loki snarled, and turned away, stoking the small fire, and making busy amide the tools, looking for something.

“You’re not a prince here, Loki,” Angrboda reminded him.

“I am a prince wherever my feet set me,” he growled, and turned toward the door.

“And where do you think you are going?” She called as he pulled back the door, letting in the storm.

“To draw pitch from the trees, to fill the gaps in the walls so we don’t freeze to death. You may pretend you don’t feel the chill, but I’ve had your feet on my back for the past three nights and they are like ice.” He slammed the door behind him and pressed out into the woods. Angrboda settled next to the fire, putting her feet as close as she could safely manage.

“You see, my precious son, your daddy does love us,” she murmured as she rubbed her belly.

XXX

Eira stabled Fleygur at Valkyrjahús and entered timidly. She made her way into the common room and held her hand up in greeting, tears filling her eyes on seeing the women she had considered sister sharing a meal together. Bryn leapt up and embraced her.

“Litla systir!” She squeezed Eira tightly, and then held her away, at arms length. “But where is Leif?”

“He is with Mother this afternoon. I came to collect my armour. Visit. Say goodbye,” she sighed. Bryn set her jaw and nodded.

“I’ve implored the Norns to restore you, Eira,” Bryn began, leading her to a place at the table, and offering her a bowl of stew. “But they have decided that because you were never intended for a Valkyrie, it would be imprudent to restore what should never have been yours.”

“They punish you for Odin’s mistakes,” Kara spat.

“How fares your back?” Hrist asked.

“The wound is well healed, but there is a constant ache. I’m sure it will settle once the bones fall into their proper place,” Eira rolled her shoulders instinctively as she answered. Bryn placed a waxed linen package in front of her.

“Keep these safe. They are powerful beyond measure,” she nodded at the bundle.

“What is it?” Eira was fearful to touch the fabric, if what was contained was so powerful.

“They are bones from your wings. I collected them from the palace hall after Odin released you. Your wings vanished. I’m sure no one even saw them as they were torn free. But the bones in your shoulders that pulled free as Frigga healed you did not disappear. I offered them to the Norns, but they said you must be the guardian of their power,” Bryn explained.

“What kind of power?” Eira asked, shoving the bundle into her haversack hastily.

“I couldn’t tell you. In all my time as a Valkyrie, I’ve never felt such a brutal release. I’ve always been present for them. They were willing and ready to be released, maybe that’s why yours was so horrible. But there’s never been a relic left behind from a release. I know only what the Norns told me, and that was that those bones could bring down Asgard,” Bryn warned her. Eira’s heart pounded.

“How can I possibly keep them safe?”

“Tell no one. We will never share this. Eira, if it got out that the wing bone of a Valkyrie could destroy Asgard, we would be hunted by Asgard’s enemies,” Kara offered.

“Eira, your magic has changed. It is grown stronger. Use it to safeguard those bones. To safeguard yourself,” Hrist implored. Eira nodded, and looked down at her stew.

“Have you had word of who will be joining you?” Eira changed the subject. Bryn shook her head.

“I requested Sif,” she teased. “But was told no. I expect the next girl child born will be called, and we will wait until she is of age to join us. That is how it has been in the past.”

“I never thought I would say it, but I will miss this.” Eira looked down the table and felt her eyes fill with tears.

“You will still be alongside us to heal,” Hrist reassured her.

“I will no longer feel the call. I will not longer serve in Valhalla. I will no longer see Jarni, or Papa,” Eira sighed.

“I will send a messenger. It will be different, but it will still be the call. And Hrist will be happy to share all the news of Jarni and your father,” Bryn promised.

“Yes, Hrist. I believe you do owe me an accounting of your romance with my brother,” Eira perked up a little.

“He’s very virile for a dead man.” Hrist was coy. Eira cringed and then laughed.

“On second thought,” she trailed off. Hrist laughed and shook her head.

“Don’t ask for accountings you’d rather not hear, Eira. Jarni and I enjoy one another’s company. As much as a Valkyrie and a dead man can. There can hardly be a happy ending there, now can there?” She asked. Eira blinked and made a face.

“I suppose not, unless you choose the realm eternal as your resting ground,” Eira shrugged. “But as I said, I don’t need details.”

The women settled into their meal and fewer words were exchanged. Eira took comfort in their presence, and enjoyed the hearty stew she had been offered. When she finished, she washed up her dishes, and helped clear away the table. “I should collect my things and be going. Mother worries.” She turned toward the arming room.

“I meant it, Eira. I will ensure you hear the call,” Brynhildr promised.

“Thank you, Bryn.”

Eira loaded her armour across Fleygur’s back and collected her weapons from the rack. She strapped them along his side, and mounted the warhorse, spurring him to a trot down the road. She stopped and turned back for a last look at the home of the Valkyries, and saw the silhouette of eleven women, swords raised high in salute to her. Her heart tightened in her chest and she raised her sword in return before turning back down the hill and heading toward home.

XXX

The sun shone across the garden, and Leif was busy transporting rocks from one side to the next again. It was his favourite outdoor activity. He would find the largest rock he could carry and stagger across the yard with it, dropping it with a squeal of delight. And then he would find another. Once all the rocks were on one side of the garden, he would begin again, and return them to the point of origin. Eira found watching his exercise calming and took as many opportunities as she could find to get both of them out into the garden. She would study, work on medicines, strengthen her magic, and then take a break to watch Leif in his toils.

“He already has the strength of a warrior,” a low voice rumbled from the garden gate. Eira looked up and scrambled to her feet to curtsey to Thor as he passed into the garden. “Enough, Eira. I told you, you will never stand on ceremony for me again.”

“Leif will need to learn courtly manners, Thor, regardless of his bloodline,” Eira excused.

“Right now he is more concerned with his rocks than whether his mother reverences a prince, Eira. Please,” Thor asked. Eira nodded. “Your colour is better. Being back here suits you well. That is a shame.”

“Why is that?” Eira asked.

“I have come on an errand from my mother. She would ask that you consider returning to the palace to live. She is worried for your well-being.” Thor would not meet her eyes as he spoke.

“This is because I returned my coronet,” Eira deduced. Thor nodded and pulled it from the satchel he carried.

“I fought my father to ensure your title was not stripped, Eira. You are still a princess of Asgard. And even were you not, your son is a prince. I can see you both thrive here. You are healthy. My nephew is strong.”

“Then you can see why I would hesitate to return to such sad memories,” Eira murmured. Thor stepped toward her and cupped her cheek in his hand.

“I understand. I am merely a messenger for my mother. She misses you and Leif. She worries after you. I will assure her you are safe and well.” He withdrew his hand, as though suddenly recognizing the intimacy of the gesture.

“Tell her I will visit on the morrow. She can share her concerns with me then, and I will listen with an open heart,” Eira promised. Thor smiled.

“Your goodness will be legendary, Eira.”

“I am merely one woman, Thor,” she dismissed.

“And yet better than us all.” He cocked an eyebrow and nodded before turning away. He stopped to watch Leif, who had found a stick and was busy stabbing his rock pile. “We will be training him before we know where the time has gone.”

“You are probably right, Thor. But not today,” Eira laughed. “Today he is a baby with a stick.”

“I will see you tomorrow, Eira.” Thor slipped past the garden gate. She heard his horse galloping down the drive and settled back to her book. Halla poked her head out from the kitchen.

“Was that Thor?”

“Aye. Frigga wants me to move back into the palace.”

“Surely she does not think of reconciliation with Loki?” Halla’s face was stark horror.

“I doubt that very much, Mother. I suspect she just needs reassurance that all is well with us.” Eira turned back to her book.

XXX

Eira imagined that by the end of her life, she would be able to count years spent on her knee in front of the throne, awaiting acknowledgement. Leif struggled to be free of her arms, and she finally rocked back on her knees, seating herself on her feet to wait. Frigga strode into the throne room quickly, rushing over.

“Honestly Eira, your propriety is going to destroy your body. You need not kneel when no one is here to see you. You need not announce yourself at court. You need only let a guard know you are here and wish to be taken to me,” Frigga chastised.

“I am unsure of protocol in the case of estrangement, Frigga,” Eira apologized.

“You are still my daughter, and a princess of this realm. There is no call for you to prostrate yourself before a throne. Particularly when my grandson is so desperate to run free,” Frigga scooped Leif from her arms, and kissed him before putting him down to run. Leif ran up the stairs to the throne and flung himself into the golden chair, squealing in delight. “He is certainly Loki’s son!”

“Thor brought your message,” Eira cut right to the point. Frigga took Eira’s hand in her own and led her to a seat near the throne where they could watch Leif.

“Look at how well you appear. The sun has kissed your skin; there are roses in your cheeks. Leif has grown again. I know your mother’s estate is a balm, but I would ask you consider returning to the palace. At least for the winter months,” Frigga began.

“I do not feel it is my place –“

“You would have your own rooms. Freedom to come and go. No requirement to attend court,” Frigga spoke quickly. “Have you noticed any difference in your magic since you were released from –“ she trailed off.

“I have had no need to practice any,” Eira shrugged.

“When your bond to the Valkyries was broken, I felt a surge in your power. I expected it to be a decrease, as your resurrection magic would have been taken from you. But your power increased. You are more than a healer, Eira. Your magic is easily as powerful as mine. Or Loki’s.” Frigga’s words carried a weight that immediately burdened Eira’s soul.

“I do not wish to practice any magic but healing,” Eira replied.

“I would teach you protection,” Frigga implored.

“I know protection.”

“You know how to manipulate your healer’s magic into protective magic. I would teach you real protection. You will need it,” Frigga warned. “I did not wish to discuss Loki and his betrayal, but Eira, his witch will come after you, and Leif. And you must be strong enough to counter her.”

Eira’s stomach turned and she glanced at Leif, who was desperately trying to climb to the top of the back of the throne. “Just for the winter, then.”

“We will assess your progress in spring. We have much work to do, Eira,” Frigga agreed.

“Just for the winter, Allmother.” Eira was adamant. Frigga nodded.

XXX

Eira was in the palace garden, introducing Leif to new rocks. His little mouth was pursed and his eyes narrowed, trying to decide which rocks he was going to move, and which direction he was going to take them. She delighted in watching his toddler’s brain worry through the problem: the rocks were all over, and he needed to collect them in one place. But which place should he chose? He finally picked up a single rock and moved it to a bench under a tree at the far side of the garden. He then set about finding all the other big rocks and began his task. Eira sat down under a tree in the middle of the garden and watched, chewing on an apple. 

“I had not expected to see you back here, princess,” Fandral’s familiar voice startled her, and he squatted down beside her, offering her a bun and some cheese.

“Frigga makes compelling arguments,” Eira sighed. Fandral sat down, stretching his long legs in front of him.

“I am glad of it. I had missed you,” he admitted. Eira smiled and shook her head.

“You, of all people, Fandral. You know you are welcome at the estate at any time,” she laughed.

“With the princess newly unattached, courtiers might talk if I spent all my time travelling between the palace and your estate,” Fandral suggested, his words careful. Eira rolled her eyes.

“As if I care what courtiers say? As though they don’t already talk about the princess who was abandoned? The princess who scandalously served as a Valkyrie and had her wings stripped bare in front of the entire court?” Eira scoffed, the fresh hurt evident in her tone.

“I spent nearly a year with you on Vanaheim, Eira. Right now, you are blameless in this abandonment, and the court speaks only of Loki’s betrayal. But were I to court you, so soon after, it might tip gossip in Loki’s favour.” Fandral spoke slowly, as though Eira was too dense to understand.

“Court me? Fandral, surely no one would think that a visit between friends was a courtship?” Eira barked out a laugh of contempt. Fandral shook his head.

“Unless it were a courtship, Eira,” he sighed. Eira’s brows furrowed together in confusion and she stared at him, not understanding.

“I don’t –“

“Of course not.” He set his jaw. “After all, I am merely Fandral the philanderer. Incapable of monogamy. Unable to love.” He pushed himself to his feet. Eira scrambled after him.

“Fandral stop!” Eira pleaded as he turned to leave. He paused, unturning. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” He kept his back to her. Eira sighed and stepped toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s complicated, Fandral,” she began. He whirled to say something and she held her hand to his mouth. “You have no idea. I had no idea, until Mother told me. Fandral, I –“ He pushed her hand away from his mouth and met her gaze.

“Eira, you were intended for me. Before all this nonsense with the Valkyries, and with Thor and with Loki. You were intended for me. Me. Our parents had hoped –“ He trailed off. “I have an empty place in my heart. A place I have filled with mead, and battle, and women. Do you honestly mean to try to convince me that the Norns did not intend for you, for me, for us to be together? Odin stole my life from me when he called you. He saw a girl who would cause two brothers to fight. He didn’t see the end of that fight was you with neither of them, but with me, who’d been your intended all along.” His shoulders shook and he looked over to Leif. “Thor claims Leif should have been his. But had Odin not meddled, Leif would have been mine.”

“Fandral, do you know why I was called?” Eira asked.

“Your healing power frightened Odin. He saw a glimpse of the future and hoped –“

“But do you know how my healing power showed itself?” Eira demanded, the conversation with Halla to fresh in her mind to forget.

“I didn’t know. Until you healed me from the cursed blade. And my memory was restored. Eira, the tiny Valkyrie, drenched in my blood,” Fandral nodded. “You have always said that healing magic is strongest where there is love. You had no magic until Jarni ran me through. Your small girl’s heart was so full of me that you became the strongest healer the nine realms has ever seen.”

“How could you have known and not told me?” Eira demanded, in horror.

“When you already had two princes fighting for your hand. Fandral, common as any peasant, was going to turn your head? I would rather not humiliate myself.” His laugh was bitter.

“But you became my protector –“

“Eira Lifebringer. I don’t call you that lightly. I owe you my life twice. I owe it once to a little girl who drove me mad shadowing me. And then to a Valkyrie claimed by not one but two princes. I would face down the demons of Niflheim to protect you!” Fandral took her by the shoulders and very nearly shouted it.

“But you wouldn’t risk the gossip of the court to visit me?” Eira teased. Fandral’s hands slid up to her face and threaded in her hair.

“You may have saved me, woman, but you will be the death of me,” he pressed his lips to hers. Eira closed her eyes and savoured the gentle brush of his lips. Not demanding, not pushing. Just a promise of something more, later. She pulled away.

“And now that I am back in the palace do you seek to court me in secret?” She asked, not wanting to hope.

“I seek to enjoy your company. And watch you son build rock cairns. Anything else will be a pleasant perk,” he grinned, stepping back. “I should not have burdened you with the depth of my feelings so soon after this mess. I apologize, Eira. I should have allowed you to grieve your losses.”

“Fandral, you have been one of my dearest friends for the past two years. Never apologize for trusting me with your cares. I have been burdened with worse,” Eira shook her head.

“We will not speak of this again for now, and I will respect that you need time to heal. When you are ready, Eira,” he swallowed, and brushed her hair from her face.

“We will speak then.” Eira nodded.


	11. Chapter 11

Eira’s lips moved silently as she repeated the properties of the dainty flowers she was crushing in her mortar. She was sure she’d felt the nascent potential for removing festering from a wound bed when her magic had licked out into the plant as she harvested it, but she was sure she’d never noticed the use in any of her studies. The scent was pleasing, and smelled cleansing though. She sighed and stopped grinding the crisp blooms for a moment, holding her hand over the mortar and casting into the vessel to amplify the response.

Cleansing and clarifying, pain relief and reduction of swelling, as well as calming and soothing. She could feel another use teasing at the side of her fingers, and flexed her hand, pressing her magic deeper into the mortar. With a loud crack, the vessel shattered, blowing pieces of the purple flower and the iron of the mortar across the room. Eira shrieked and jumped back.

She looked around at where the remains of the iron dish had landed. Some of them were red hot; others had left scorch marks where they had bounced before landing. The sickly scent of smoldering lavender clung to the room, hanging around her head and making her lightheaded. The door to the study flew open, and Fandral flew in.

“Eira, I heard a blast and you screamed?” He had his sword drawn, as though he were expecting much worse than what currently confronted him.

“I overcast and shattered my mortar. I’m fine.” She shook her head in embarrassment, and took a deep breath. Fandral stepped into the room and tilted his head, assessing her.

“You are not fine, Eira,” he contradicted her. “Guard, get the queen, immediately. Eira needs a healer!” He stepped forward and caught her as she fell forward, hands at her midsection.

XXX

Eira’s eyes fluttered open and she saw that she was staring at the ceiling of her rooms. She tilted her head and saw Frigga sitting at the bedside, flipping through the book that Eira kept all her healing knowledge in. She struggled to sit, but her body felt heavy, and her limbs did not want to work.

“I put you into a healing sleep until I was able to get your mother here to help me to repair the wound to your abdomen,” Frigga began without looking up. “This is what I feared when Odin released you. You are too powerful.”

“I don’t understand,” Eira’s voice was dry, and came out a rasp. Frigga laid a hand on her chest and Eira felt the pull of a weight off her, like a heavy blanket being drawn back. 

“You should be able to sit now.” Frigga closed the book and placed it on the bedside table. She poured an amber liquid into a mead cup as Eira pushed herself to sitting. “Drink, and heal.”

Eira took the cup and sipped tentatively. She ached everywhere, but as Frigga had drawn the mantle of healing sleep off of her, she noticed a particular and strong pain to her abdomen. As she drank, warmth flowed through her, coiling around the most painful areas and numbing her.   
“I’ve never felt such power, Frigga. What is this?” She was too nervous to attempt scrying with the drink.

“It is an apple wine,” Frigga began.

“Apples don’t have this kind of healing in them,” Eira contradicted. Frigga smiled and took one of Eira’s hands in her own.

“Normal apples do not. This wine was made from Idunn’s apples. There was a great deal to repair, and healing is your particular talent, not mine. I had to make do with what I had, and then I had to go beyond your healing tome to repair the damage to your body,” Frigga explained. Eira blanched and looked at the cup. 

“But Idunn’s apples? Will that not cause –“

“Eira, the mortar, when it shattered, blew in all directions. It peppered your belly with shards of molten iron, tearing at your vital organs. It seared the wounds in many places, making it nearly impossible for me to heal, even after I’d removed the fragments. There was such profound damage.”

“Frigga, I’ve never had one of Idunn’s apples, but rumour says they grant eternal youth,” Eira questioned.

“Well, nothing is eternal, but they do keep the wrinkles away,” Frigga laughed.

“If that is true, then is it also true about the fertility they cause?” The second question was quieter.

“Your womb was shredded. I repaired what I could. But you are a young woman, Eira.” Frigga explained.

“A young woman who has been abandoned.” Eira tried to keep the bitterness from her tone but was unable.

“But a young woman regardless. And beautiful. And powerful. And royal. And you will love again. And you deserve children with your new love,” Frigga ran a hand down Eira’s cheek. “I know you’ve no need of a second mother, but you are just as much my daughter now as you were when you and Loki were first bound. I would see you happy, and settled. Now rest. The healing sleep has lifted, but Idunn’s apple wine needs more time to work.”

Eira drew in her breath and closed her eyes, a slow tear leaking down the side of her face, trickling into her ear. “No one wants the cast off former bride of the second prince, Allmother. Barren or not.”

“Then you have not seen how the men you know look on you,” Frigga chastised. “Rest now, my child, and think on this. It should not be if a man would want you. When it is time, you will choose to love again, and the man will follow. You are a goddess, Eira. Nothing can resist that power.”

Eira squeezed Frigga’s hand and allowed herself to drift back to sleep.

XXX

“It is time, Loki,” Angrboda held a hand to her swollen abdomen. Loki blanched. 

“What must I do?” 

“Were you not there when your precious heir was born?” Angrboda spat, waddling to her bed. “Make me a pain-relieving tea, make ready the linens, and plan for a long night. I am going to try to rest until the pains worsen.”

Loki made himself busy quickly, placing the draught at the bedside as soon as he could, and then taking charge of the things Angrboda had demanded. As her contractions quickened, Loki felt helpless to do anything, but soon, clambered into the bed behind her to hold her upright. 

“I will need to move soon to catch the babe,” Loki murmured, and stroked her sweat-dampened hair off her face. Angrboda groaned through another sharp contraction and nodded.

“Now. I need to push. Help me to the edge of the bed.” Her words were without the usual cruel edge to them. Loki lifted her as though she weighed nothing, and assisted her to sitting. He laid linens down on the floor, readied one of his daggers to cut the cord. He threw a swaddling length over his shoulder. Angrboda clenched her teeth and bore down, digging her fingers into Loki’s shoulders. Loki flinched, and relaxed when Angrboda’s grip on him lessened. Her fingers tightened into his flesh again. Over and over, she’d dig her nails into his shoulders, until he could feel blood trickling below his tunic. 

“Boda, I can put a pain-relief spell on you,” he offered. She gritted her teeth and shook her head.

“No, I won’t know when to push,” she worried.

“You’re in pain, Boda.” He hadn’t used the affectionate nickname since he’d returned from Asgard.

“I don’t want to prolong this pain, Loki, I –“ she gasped and pushed again, digging into his shoulders again, and screaming. It tore out of her, until she had no breath left and she collapsed against Loki. She took a short quick breath and cried out again, “catch him, catch him!” Loki reached between her legs just as the slimy babe slid forth. He pulled the swaddling linen from his shoulder, and rubbed the babe down.

“She is beautiful, Boda.” Loki’s voice was soft with wonder as he tied off the cord and readied to cut it. He carefully bundled up the tiny, screaming baby and placed her in Angrboda’s arms. 

“She? No, this is your son, Loki,” Angrboda protested. Loki shook his head.

“This is my daughter, and she is perfect,” he disagreed, running a finger down the baby’s cheek, and her cries quieted as she rooted toward the touch. “And she is hungry.” 

Angrboda put the baby to breast, and once settled, pulled back the swaddling and gasped. “I was sure she was a boy, Loki.” Loki shrugged and smiled gently.

“I am glad for a daughter. She will grow up fierce and strong, like her mother,” Loki reassured her. “What should we name her?”

“Jotunn don’t name their children until they survive their first winter. She will simply be Lokisdottir for now,” Angrboda stroked the babe’s cheek. Loki was amazed at the softness in her gaze. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything so gentle from Angrboda before.

“I will need to present her in Asgard once she is named,” Loki sighed.

“You should inform your father that she was born before that visit,” Angrboda stated. Loki swallowed and nodded.

“Once I know you are on your way to well and healed, I will return to Asgard for a few days,” Loki agreed.

“Just don’t fall back in love with that bitch and leave me,” Angrboda’s normal sharp tone came back, but Loki could hear vulnerability in it.

“My place is with you and our babe. Who else will care for you? Eira has the entire court to manage her and Leif.” Loki kissed Angrboda’s forehead, and helped settle her into the bed before cleaning up and disposing of the afterbirth.

XXX

Eira sat in the garden, a shawl around her shoulders. Leif had graduated from building rock piles on to throwing smaller rocks against the biggest rock he could find, and then squealing and chasing the rocks as they bounced away. Eira flinched every time he threw a rock. The boy was stronger than she expected, and his throwing arm was true. She was worried he was going to wind up rebounding a rock into his head.

“Leif, my sweet boy, gentle,” she chided. She was still not moving quickly, and her magic was so weak she couldn’t even bring down the swelling on a bug bite last time she had tried. She took a sip from her tea and placed the mug down beside her. In the moment she looked away, exactly what she had feared happened, and Leif let out a startled shriek before falling silently to the ground. Eira screamed and launched herself off the bench toward her son.

He had a split in the skin of his forehead, and a large bump was already forming. Eira laid a hand on his head and dug deep into her last reserves. She cast her magic into Leif’s head, bracing it between her hands. The brain was swelling, and Eira felt her heart beat begin to race. Swelling in the brain was often fatal, and she had no strength to cast to lessen the injury. She pushed herself to find some last drop of magic in her, to push into Leif and heal him. She began to see spots in front of her eyes.

“Eira, what –“ Fandral ran into the garden and skidded to a stop in front of her figure, kneeling over Leif. He dropped to his knees beside her. “Guard! We need Frigga. Or Halla, if she is in the palace!”

“No, it must be Frigga. Mother has no magic,” Eira murmured, swaying. Fandral placed an arm around her to support her, and her magic grabbed at his essence, pulling energy away from him. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Fandral, I’m so exhausted.” Eira’s apology was accompanied by more swaying, as she pushed his arm off her. Fandral put his arm back around her, pressing it against her shoulder as though he could push his lifeforce into her.

“Take what you need, Eira. I am healthy, and strong.”

“I am not healthy, nor am I strong. I could pull the very life from your bones, Fandral, please. Just get Frigga!” Eira cried, and tried to pull free of his arm. At the same time, she could feel her weak magic pulling at him, energy flowing from him through her into Leif. She could feel the swelling in his head decreasing, the knot on his forehead growing smaller. 

Frigga ran into the garden, skirts hitched to her knees, and dropped across from Eira. She lay her hands on top of Eira’s and let her magic flow to the healer, allowing Eira to direct it where it needed to go. Leif’s eyes fluttered, and opened. He started crying when he saw the three adults looming over him, and Eira lifted him into her arms and rubbed his back.

“There, there, litli prinsinn. You are well,” she soothed, kissing his brow.

“Bang!” The little boy announced and rubbed his head. “Ouch!” Eira kissed his hand, and placed his hand on the place where the rock had hit.

“Better now?” She asked. Leif looked at her, and kissed his own palm, pressing it up to her lip and nose. When his hand came away, it was covered in blood.

“Mama?” He looked at his hand, and held it up to her.

“Mama is better too, Leif.” She rubbed her sleeve across her lip, hoping the bleeding in her nose had stopped when Frigga shared her magic. She passed Leif to Fandral and pushed herself to her feet, swaying gently with the exertion.

“I will mind Leif, Eira. You need rest. You taxed yourself too much.” Fandral’s words lacked the accusation Eira thought they might.

“I will escort you to your rooms, Eira.” Frigga laid a hand in the crook of Eira’s elbow and steered her toward the palace doors.

XXX

Eira was restless. She was not healing quickly enough for her liking, and her magic was so erratic and unpredictable that she feared using it. She sat at her workbench, grinding lavender in her new mortar. It was hewn out of marble, and the inner bowl was still a little rough. It made grinding both easier and more difficult. Fandral was out on the balcony with Leif, playing with wooden dragons and horses. Leif had been a little more subdued since his accident, and was not as keen to play throw with the rocks. He was very keen to spend time with Fandral, and Fandral was often nearby to keep the boy company, as if he sensed that Eira was struggling with her recuperation.

A knock sounded at the door before it swung open and Thor strode in. Eira stopped and rose, nodding and dipping into a slight curtsey. Thor rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Eira, I have told you that we are equals. I grow tired of saying it. Think you that I speak merely to hear my own voice?”

“That depends on when you are speaking, Thor,” Eira retorted pertly. Thor gaped just for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh. He sobered quickly, and sat on the stool beside Eira.

“I have been thinking, Eira,” Thor began. Eira smirked, and placed the pestle beside her mortar to pay attention.

“A terrible pastime,” she chided with a smile. Thor paused again and chuckled, shaking his head. He took her hand in his.

“Eira, you are a princess of Asgard. And you are raising a prince,” he spoke slowly, as though great deliberation had gone into his words.

“Yes?”

“What Loki did was base. Abhorrent. I cannot understand what drove him to it,” he continued. Eira swallowed and looked away, willing the tears to not fall.

“What is done is done, Thor,” Eira managed, her voice cracking slightly.

“It is not right, Eira!” Thor exclaimed. “You are a princess, deserving of respect, and honour. You inspire great deeds on the field of war, but you also inspire great kindness and generosity. You are a goddess, and a Valkyrie –“

“A Valkyrie fallen, Thor. I am not –“

“You are a goddess, a princess, and what is more, you are deserving of praise and glory. It sickens me what your situation is. Please allow me to make it right, Eira.” He paused and waited. Eira wasn’t certain how he wanted her to respond, and cleared her throat uncomfortably, glancing toward the balcony where Leif and Fandral were playing even more quietly than they previously had been.

“How can you possibly repair the damage?” Eira asked. Thor smiled and leaned closer, his knees nearly touching hers.

“Marry me, Eira.” The words were soft, and gentle, and Eira could tell they were meant with all kindness.

“Thor,” she started, shaking her head.

“Hear my thoughts, Eira. You were right when you said I did not love you before. I loved the idea of you. And then, I had to repress any feelings of fondness I might have harboured because you were my brother’s wife. But since you’ve come back to the palace, and I’ve watched you with Leif, seen you working with my mother, all those feelings I once thought I held for you have renewed. I am not foolish enough to think I love you yet, but I know I would.”

“That’s hardly romantic, Thor,” Eira snorted. “I might love you someday.” She mimicked his voice as best as she could, her eyebrow quirked.

“I don’t mean –“ Thor sighed and pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I do love you, Eira. I love you as a dear friend. And I know that should we court, I would love you with passion and romance. As you deserve. I am asking that you marry me. Not today, but in time.”

“I don’t know what to say, Thor.” Eira felt lightheaded and her mouth was dry. She took a deep, calming breath. And then another. Her eyes flicked to the balcony again, but Leif and Fandral were suspiciously silent.

“I would implore you to say yes,” Thor laughed. “But I would be happy if you would even deign to consider it.”

Eira bit her lip, noticing the shadow of Fandral’s tall form against the curtains of the balcony. She blinked slowly and took a deep breath. When her eyes opened, his shadow was gone.

“I will consider it, Thor,” she allowed. Thor squeezed her hand.

“I will make you happy, Eira.” He leaned forward and kissed her temple before rising and bowing slightly to her. “I will give you your privacy now.”

Thor had barely closed the door when Fandral walked in, a sleeping Leif in his arms. Eira stood to take him and he shook his head, turning into the nursery to tuck the wee boy in. Eira followed him to the door, and watched as he gently covered Leif, and tucked the ratty linen doll he slept with into the blanket with him. Fandral stalked wordlessly from Leif’s room without looking at her, and Eira rushed after him.

“Why are you angry?” She demanded.

“Because I am about to lose, again. To a prince, again.” Fandral spat, his voice barely a whisper.

“What was I supposed to say, Fandral?” Eira demanded, her hands on her hips.

“The truth. You aren’t ready for courtship? You have another in mind? Or were you only paying me a courtesy?”

“You know I wasn’t! Fandral,” Eira’s eyes filled with tears as her voice cracked. “You’ve been my only friend. My only confidant. Don’t be like this!”

“Do you plan on courting Thor?” He demanded, his voice void of emotion.

“No!” Eira exclaimed and flinched, looking over her shoulder to the nursery. There was nothing but silence from the room. Fandral stared at her in pained silence. He sighed heavily and grimaced.

“And me? Do you plan on courting me?” Eira could tell that he hadn’t wanted to ask. That he feared the answer.

“Not if you’re going to be a jealous fool,” she snapped, deciding he didn’t need his feelings spared. He shook his head and strode closer to her, narrowing his eyes.

“Eira, if there is to be no chance between us, cut me loose now. But do not taunt me. I do not wish to lose you to my prince, and best friend.” He took a single step toward her, closing the gap between them, and taking her hands in his.

“You have nothing to fear from Thor,” Eira allowed. Fandral let out a sigh of relief and swept her up in his arms. Eira stiffened, and turned her face away when he tried to kiss her, pushing away from his embrace. “No, Fandral.”

His arms dropped to his side and he looked puzzled.

“I merely –“

“Fandral, this is not some romantic saga that will be recited by bards. You have been carefree with your affection for so long. And you are so handsome and charming that you have reaped great benefit from it. But I am not some simpering courtier, determined to catch your eye for the night, and I will not be treated as though I am,” Eira began. Fandral took a step back, his cheeks colouring.

“That is not –“

“As much as I am not some silly girl determined to bed the great Fandral, I am also not your property. If the Norns truly intended us to be together, as you insist, then you are capable of understanding that I am the property of no man,” Eira interrupted, the sting of unshed tears prickling at her eyes. She turned away, and took a deep breath. Fandral said nothing. He stood, unmoving, behind her. “I find I am as exhausted as my son. Good day, Fandral.”

“Good day, Your Highness.” Fandral’s tone was clipped. Eira barely heard him leave, his footfalls were so light, but he pulled the door closed just a little too hard. Eira let the tears fall, her confusing overwhelming her.


	12. Chapter 12

The lake water lapped against her bare feet, cool against the heat of the sun. Eira drew in a deep breath, sighing out in contentment. The sun warmed her face and neck, licking down the neckline of her tunic. Leif splashed in the shallows, no further than a quick reach from her. She pulled her skirts up to her knees and let the sun kiss her pale legs.

Idunn’s apple wine had mended her, more than just her womb. Her magic had been restored to full strength as well, tingling across her fingertips. It had been quiet in Midgard, there was peace in Vanaheim and in both Alfheim and Svartalfheim. For months, Eira had been yearning to heal on a grander scale that Leif’s occasional bumps and bruises. She could hear the prayers from Midgard, and occasionally stole off Asgard in the night to see to the sick. But there had been no call for her to expend her magic in a great way, and it built up in her, pressing out against her skin, licking along the paths of her blood, trying to escape. She sometimes felt like it would explode out of her, like a static spark. 

And some days, she barely felt it. Watching Leif chase tadpoles, she noticed she didn’t feel the built up pressure in her hands. She yawned and pushed the hair out of her eyes, glancing across the lake. Nothing but the sounds of the birds calling to each other and the giggles of her boy to disturb her peace. Eira closed her eyes against the sun’s heat and let out another ragged sigh of peaceful contentment.

“Mama, rider comes!” Leif splashed out of the water and tucked in beside her. He was that awkward age when shy meets curiosity, and he stared from the safety of Eira’s embrace at the shadow approaching them. Eira tensed, not recognizing the horse, but relaxed as it drew nearer as she recognized the rider. Thor pulled up on the reigns, slowing the horse and slipping from its back.

“Unca!” Leif rocketed out from under Eira’s arm and wrapped his arms around Thor’s leg. Thor smiled and patted Leif’s head, smiling with the indulgent pleasure of the favoured uncle. His eyes met Eira’s.

“It is far past time that you took another husband, Eira,” Thor admonished quietly, ruffling Leif’s hair. “Would it not sound better for him to call me father?”

Eira rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Just because Leif favours you above all others does not mean that you and I are well suited, Thor. I would not burden you with a wife you would never love.”

“We’ve spoken of this before –“

“Thor, I know you didn’t ride all this way to have this fruitless argument with me again. Particularly not on a borrowed horse.” Eira was quick to interrupt. Thor flushed and clenched his jaw.

“Loki has come to see Father. You should bring Leif back to the palace so that he may see how strong his son has grown,” Thor mumbled

“Odin sent you.” Eira pushed herself to her feet and gathered the few toys that Leif had been playing with. Thor took Leif’s hand and led him back to the horses, heads down on the crest of the hill, eating the tall grass. After Eira mounted, Thor passed Leif up to her. Eira refused to hurry herself back to the palace, instead keeping Fleygur at a slow pace.

XXX

Eira left Leif in the garden with Fandral and followed Thor to court. She did not want Leif to see any drama that might arise between her and Loki. She hoped that she or Odin could convince him to come see Leif before leaving again. Thor led them through the family rooms to bring them out beside the thrones. No one noticed them enter. The court was entirely agog with Loki’s appearance. He stood in front of Odin, giving no reverence or acknowledgement. Frigga stepped forward, and his façade cracked. He smiled with genuine pleasure to see his mother.

“You have finally come home,” she offered.

“Only to announce the birth of my heir,” he replied. There was a collective gasp from the crowd and Eira flinched as though she had been slapped. Thor slipped an arm around her in support. Odin stood, stepping down from Hlidskjalf. 

“Your heir was born and recognized over two years ago, Loki. Leif is growing strong through the guidance of your extended family, and his health is overseen by his gifted mother.” Odin’s words were a chastisement.

“But you broke the bond between his mother and I, and I choose to no longer recognize him as my son. There is the question of Eira’s involvement with Thor, after all,” Loki sneered. Tears sprang into Eira’s eyes. Striding forward from between Frigga and Thor, she bit back her tears, determined not to let Loki see the pain he had caused with his words. She faced him and he cocked an eyebrow. “Darling, you look tired. My brother keeping you up long into the night?”

Eira balled her fist and threw it, connecting with his nose and causing a fountain a blood the pour forth. Loki clutched at his nose and stared at her in surprise.

“Clearly you have forgotten that I was a Valkyrie. My combat training was every bit as rigorous as yours was, darling,” she drew out the endearment with a scowl. “Except that I attended the training grounds when I was required. And last time I checked, I’ve seen more battle than you.” She heard Thor smother a laugh, trying to make it sound like a cough. She stepped a little closer, and narrowed her eyes. Loki glared, blood from his nose pooling and then spilling over his hands.

“Don’t you lay another hand on me, Eira. I will not be responsible for my actions –“

Eira cut him off by pushing his hands from his face and laying her own on his nose. She let a tiny amount of magic escape to check the wound, and felt that the nose was broken. She smiled. “This will only hurt for a moment. We can’t have you returning to your whore marked by your wife, after all.” She let her magic coil into his face, pulling the bones back together, knitting the cartilage in place. She allowed that it could be painful. Loki tried to pull away, but her magic had grown stronger, and she bound him in place. He screamed out and fell to his knees, Eira following him down to finish soothing the bruising that had sprung up around his eyes. She drew back her magic and watched as Loki fell back, breathing heavily. “Now mind your words, or I’ll do it again.”

“Father, you must punish her for striking a prince!” Loki protested as he regained his feet.

“Were she common, I would. But when you married, you gave her equal rank to you.” Odin’s words were simple. Loki scowled.

“And my daughter?”

“Your union with the Jotun witch has not been blessed. As such, she cannot be recognized as your heir,” Odin shrugged.

“And should I wish to bring her before the court to be recognized with her birthright as princess of Asgard?” Loki demanded. Odin set his jaw.

“Does she have a name?” Odin asked.

“We have named her Hela,” Loki nodded.

“Hela Lokisdottir was born outside of the royal bond of marriage. She cannot be your heir. She will never be recognized as princess in Asgard,” Odin spoke carefully, his voice echoing through the unnaturally silent court. Loki gaped.

“She is my daughter! I am your son, and a prince!” He protested.

“I have seen what the Norns foretell for Hela. She is death incarnate, and to allow her to walk in the Eternal City would be a blasphemy. Hela Lokisdottir is forever exiled from Asgard. She will never be welcome here,” Odin’s voice had a note of sadness to it. Loki brought his glare back around to Eira.

“This is your doing. You could not love me for who I am, and now you have ruined everything,” he hissed, stepping close enough that his words could only be heard by family.

“Had you but accepted the love I so freely offered, Hela would be ours, and be princess in her own right,” Eira choked out. Loki snorted.

“And where is my son?” He glanced around the throne room, feigning interest.

“In the garden. You should visit him, he asks after you often,” Eira murmured.

“I only planned to stay long enough to announce Hela’s birth.” He turned away. Frigga stepped forward and laid a hand on Loki’s shoulder.  
“You should visit your son, Loki. He is strong, and handsome. And clever. He reminds me so much of you as a small boy. Stay.” Her voice was soothing, and she rubbed her hands up and down Loki’s arms rhythmically. Eira realized Frigga was working calming magic on Loki, and watched as the pinched look melted from his face.

“One night. Angrboda is alone with Hela on Jotunheim,” Loki began.

“Eira and Leif are here alone too, brother, since you abandoned them.” Thor stepped forward to protest.

“But Eira and Leif have you. And mother. And father. So they are not alone. Boda has no one other than me. And Hela is yet a helpless babe,” Loki retorted. He turned back to Eira, and she could almost see sadness in the depths of his eyes, but he blinked and the emotion was replaced with anger again.

“I will see my son tomorrow before I leave,” he barked, turning away. His coat spun around behind him and he stalked toward the doors of the throne room, away from Eira and the rest of his family. Frigga laid a hand on Eira’s shoulder, and squeezed, and Eira felt the same soothing magic flow into her that she’s seen flowing into Loki.

“I know my son, Eira. He has not stopped loving you. It is complicating his feelings for Angrboda, to see you. He will be impossible tonight, but perhaps when he visits Leif, you will actually be able to settle some of your own emotions.” Frigga’s words were quiet, and Eira knew she was the only one who heard them. She nodded, and excused herself from court, heading back through the family rooms to avoid facing the court again. As she entered the main lounge, she was overwhelmed with all the emotions she’d been checking while in court, and she crumpled into a chair, sobbing.

A pair of strong hands slipped around her, and she turned into them, laying her head against his chest and crying. She took a ragged breath in, and was overwhelmed with the scent of nutmeg. She pushed away and looked up, meeting Odin’s one good eye with her own.

“I have failed you, my child. I had hoped Loki would run away, work through his wildness, and come home. I was hoping for reconciliation, but breaking your bond only freed him to suppress his emotions completely, and now I fear he is lost.” He shook his head and sighed. 

“I would not reconcile, Allfather,” Eira argued. “Loki may have loved me, but he had always used deception, deceit, lies to his advantage. I don’t know that I ever could have tamed him. Nor do I want to know. I want to raise my son to be a good man. And how could I do that if his father continues to carry the title of Liesmith?”

“Leif will be a great man. Part of what will make him great is who his father is. But for now, we must all let Loki go. He has a fate to fulfill now that he has brought Hela into this world,” Odin sighed. Eira wiped the tears from her eyes, and took advantage of the rarity of a moment alone with Odin.

“Allfather, Thor has renewed his pursuit of my hand,” Eira began, her voice rough from crying. Odin’s eye widened, but he said nothing. Eira tilted her head, waiting for him to respond. He looked deep in thought.

“I will not prevent his suit this time, Eira, should that be what you wish.” His words were careful.

“My son needs a father, I am well aware of that. But I do not know that I could trade one brother for the other. Not again,” she began.

“And I suspect there is another who had caught your eye?” Odin was perceptive.

“Is it not what the Norns had intended?” Eira’s question cut to the quick, and Odin glanced away. His eye lit on another chair and he pulled it over and sat, nearly knee to knee with Eira.

“I was young, and foolish. I know that now. But I looked in to see what the Norns had in store for my sons. And I saw conflict. Constant conflict. Worse than any conflict between siblings that I’d ever seen before. And I saw you. And you were at the heart of one of those conflicts. And then, days later, you and your parents stood before me, announcing your alarm powers. In a rare alignment of my own needs with the needs of the nine realms, I’d just released a Valkyrie, and without even thinking through the consequence, I named you to the twelve. I sought to prevent what I perceived to be a bloody conflict between my sons, but putting the source out of their way. I see now that calling you was what put you in their sights to begin with, altering the original course the Norns had set for you. You were never intended for either of my boys. As a child, your fate lay elsewhere. Now? I cannot see what the Norns have in store for you, or I would direct you there, child.” It was more than Odin had ever said to her in one conversation. And it was filled with his regret. Eira felt her eyes fill with tears again.

“Was it with Fandral, Allfather?” Eira’s voice came out a whisper. Odin nodded with a sad smile.

“And look what my interference wrought in his life as well,” he nodded. “If you should settle on Thor, you will have my blessing, for I can see you would be a wise and thoughtful queen for my impulsive son. But should you direct your heart to Fandral, as the Norns had woven when you were a child, I will not prevent the match, and will bless it as well.”

“I am a well-loved woman, Allfather. You certainly ensured that,” she admitted with a soft laugh.

“And that had always been in the tapestry of your life, Eira. Even before I meddled. Do not forget, my sons both would have loved you, regardless of my interference. You are special. A goddess.” Odin cupped her cheek in his broad hand, and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“Thank you, Allfather.” Eira sighed and pushed herself to her feet, determined to consider everything Odin had said to her.


	13. Chapter 13

“Highness, there is war on Midgard.” A gentle hand shook her shoulder. “Fandral saddles your horse for you, but you must make haste if you are to catch up with the Valkyries.” The handmaiden placed a candle on the bedside table and hurried about the room, gathering Eira’s arming clothes. Eira was slow to waken, in a way she hadn’t been before, and she realized that she no longer had the endurance of a Valkyrie. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, sitting up at the bedside. She slowly tugged on her clothing. The handmaiden shook her head and climbed onto the edge of the bed to plait Eira’s hair while she pulled her boots on.

“Where is my sword?” Eira asked, eyeing the tidy pile of items that had been laid out near the door. Her healing bag, and helm were ready, but she couldn’t see her sword. And her spear was no longer hers to carry since she was no longer a Valkyrie.

“Fandral took it when he bid me wake you. He took your armour as well.” She tied Eira’s hair and patted her shoulder. “I know you are tired, Highness, but you must hurry lest Heimdall refuse to reopen the Bifrost.”

Eira nodded and rose, stumbling towards her things. She rubbed her eyes again and lifted her bag to her shoulder, bending again to grab the strap of her helm. She hurried to the palace gates. Fandral was waiting, already mounted, holding Fleygur’s reins.

“Sleepy, princess?” He teased. Eira nodded as she swung her leg over Fleygur’s back. “I will help you arm when we get to Midgard.”

“Thank you, Fandral.” She kicked her heels into Fleygur’s side and followed, urging Fleygur faster until they’d caught up with the Valkyries. She barely slowed as they rode into the Bifrost, setting down on Midgard moments later. She reined in Fleygur and watched as the Valkyries continued to the scene of the battle without her. Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away, sliding off her horse’s back. Fandral pulled her armour off the back of his horse and helped her lace and strap into it, finally buckling her belt around her waist. He looked up from his place, kneeling in front of her and smiled.

“The hurt will ease, Eira, give it time,” he stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. Then impulsively, he dipped his head, brushing his lips against hers. Eira pulled away quickly, short of breath. She met his gaze and saw the question in his eyes. She leaned back into him, and pressed her lips against his, pulling him close with his armour straps. His arms slipped around her and he deepened the kiss, grazing his tongue against her lip. Eira pulled away reluctantly.

“This will not aid the wounded,” she sighed.

“And we should get you back to Asgard with haste, as Loki is still there, and wants to see Leif,” Fandral agreed. Eira nodded but stole one last kiss before pulling her helm on. 

XXX

Eira was covered in grime and blood, and was completely spent. She slipped of Fleygur’s back as soon as they arrived in Himinbjörg, crumpling to the golden floor. Heimdall ran toward her as Fandral came through the Bifrost.

“Eira!” Heimdall knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms. “Have you been wounded?”

Eira shook her head weakly. “No, I just, the battle was bloody, there were many wounded to tend. Too many. And I no longer have the endurance of a Valkyrie.”

Fandral jumped from the back of Firehooves and ran to where Eira lay. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her helm from her head. “Lighter armour will help, now that you no longer need be in the thick of battle. And time spent with Frigga, to learn to control the excess of power you now carry.” He pushed himself to his feet, under the weight of Eira and her armour. “Are you able to ride to the palace?”

“Put me on my feet, Fandral, I am a grown woman. I am well capable of riding Fleygur back to the palace.” Eira protested. Fandral placed her on her feet, and she slipped to a heap on the floor again. Fandral looked and Heimdall and back to Eira.

“Pass her to me when I am mounted, Heimdall.” Fandral stepped back into his saddle. Heimdall passed Eira to him, and then led Fleygur over, and tied his reins to the back of the saddle. Eira huffed in displeasure. “You have overtaxed yourself, Eira. I’m not about to leave you to your own devices.”

He cradled her in his arms, and rode for the palace. When they arrived at the stables, Fandral handed her down to the stable hand, and hopped down, taking her back. He helped her remove her armour, piece by piece, unbuckling and slipping her torso armour off first. Eira place her hands on his back as he bent in front of her, working the lacing on her legs free. The stable hand offered her a cup of mead and she took it, first sipping, then drinking heavily as the sweetness of the honey roused her.

“Shall we see if you can walk back to the palace?” Fandral asked. “Your erstwhile husband is still skulking around somewhere, and we don’t want to give him any reason to lose his temper.”

“If we walk slowly, I will manage,” Eira nodded. 

“What happened, Eira? Why are you so spent?” Fandral finally asked, the afternoon sun warm on their faces as they emerged from the stables.

“There were so many wounded. Frigga says my magic is stronger now that I am no longer a Valkyrie, but I don’t have much control. Being a Valkyrie bound my magic, kept it balanced. I am still learning how much is too much,” Eira began. “I know I didn’t save anyone who shouldn’t have been saved, at least. But there are a large number of soldiers who will be trying to explain their complete lack of wounds today when their armies regroup. My magic flooded out of me. There must be some way for me to regain control.”

“It sounds as though you need more time in study with Frigga,” Fandral commented. Eira nodded.

“I may need the Allfather’s input as well,” Eira replied. They had reached Eira’s rooms and Fandral stood awkwardly at the door. “What is it?”

“Are you –“ he began, and then stopped. “You’ve a -“ he trailed off again.

“Spit it out, Fandral,” Eira suddenly laughed.

“I can leave you here, and know you will safely get clean, and be well minded? You’ve an attendant who can help you?” The words came out in a hurried rush and Eira laughed again.

“Yes, Fandral. I will be quite well cared for,” she smiled. “But if you are looking to help, perhaps you could mind Leif while I clean up? He is into everything lately, and can be quite a handful if both my handmaid and I are occupied.”

“You never need make excuses to ask me to take Leif, Eira. I am always happy to do so.”  
There was fondness in his tone. 

“But you’ll have need of washing up as well,” Eira protested. Fandral shook his head.

“I was only there to watch over you, at the queen’s request. I can take Leif, and we will go put my armour away together. I will meet you in the garden?” Fandral offered. Eira nodded and opened the door to her room. Leif squealed and barreled across the room, flinging his arms around Eira’s legs. She extricated herself and squatted in front of him. 

“My sweet prince, Mama needs to take a bath. Fandral is going to take you and show you his armour, and his sword, doesn’t that sound fun?” Eira started. Leif’s eyes got big and he nodded. “Then he will take you to the garden, and Mama will meet you both there, and we will have a snack together.”

“Biscuits?” Leif asked. Eira nodded. Leif marched over to Fandral and reached up, demanding to be carried. Fandral scooped him up in his arms, and took a step back to Eira. He dipped his head and kissed her cheek, sending a shiver across Eira’s shoulders. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on mouth. 

“I could grow used to this, Fandral.” She stepped back as the door opened, the handmaid returning from readying the bath for her. She followed the girl to the bath, trusting that Fandral would keep a watchful eye on Leif.

XXX

Eira was combing out the tangles in her hair, watching Fandral entertain Leif in the garden. He’d found a wooden practice sword, likely when they were putting away his armour, and Leif was swinging it wildly. Fandral would let him, for a few minutes, and then could step in and correct the way Leif held the sword, or how he was swinging it. The boy was just past two, and Fandral was already teaching him swordplay. Eira smiled and watched the easy interaction between the two. Leif would run toward Fandral, wildly swinging, and Fandral would gently catch the sword and direct it under his arm, pretending he was being stabbed. He fell to the ground dramatically, and then when Leif would run over, he would rear back up and startle the boy. Leif’s squeals of delighted joy echoed through the garden and up to the balcony. Eira found it was easy to smile at the scene. It reminded her of her father and Jarni. 

Eira began to plait her hair, nearly ready to meet them in the garden. As she crossed strand over strand, Fandral was just crouching down to chase Leif again. He suddenly stiffened, and stood up, nodding just enough to make Eira question who was there. From her place on the balcony, she couldn’t see the entrance to the garden. Leif looked confused, and then followed Fandral’s gaze. His entire face lit up, and he charged toward whoever was there, arms outstretched, much as he had when he’d seen Eira.

“Papa!” Eira’s hands stilled. She was pleased that Leif remembered Loki. It had been months, and he was still so young. There was silence in the garden after Leif’s exclamation. She still couldn’t see what was happening, but from the look that crossed Fandral’s face, she was glad the scene was out of view.

“Papa?” Leif’s voice was less certain. Eira leaned over the balcony, desperate to see what was going on. Loki stepped from beside it, and stared up at her. He gave a look of silent accusation at her, his eyes flicking to Fandral, and she could feel her face flush at the unsaid words. And then she angered, raising both her eyebrows in question. Loki’s eyes moved back to Leif, who had run back to Fandral to retrieve his sword. Fandral had knelt to make it easier to return. Leif took it shyly, and then stood close enough to Fandral that his leg rubbed against Fandral’s knee. Loki sighed and glared back at Eira, as though it was her fault. What she was at fault for, she wasn’t sure. He turned and stalked back out of the garden, and Leif’s face crumpled, tears starting.

Eira’s own eyes filled with tears and she was desperate to get to Leif, to comfort him. Fandral wrapped his arms around the little boy and lifted him, kissing his forehead and smoothing his soft curls off his face. She could see Fandral start to rock, and heard the low murmur of him singing Leif’s favourite song. Fandral looked up at her and shook his head, and Eira felt reassured that she didn’t need to hurry to soothe her son.

She tied her hair and headed toward the garden regardless. She pulled open the door to her rooms and came face to face with Loki, who strode in without invite or preamble.

“Fandral?” It was a single word.

“What of him?” Eira decided to play coy. She knew what Loki wanted to ask, and was not going to give the information so easily.

“Fandral is who you would replace me with?” Loki demanded. She laughed.

“Is that what you think? That I seek a substitute in your absence? Is that what Angrboda is?” She asked. Loki sneered.

“Don’t speak her name. You know nothing of our relationship.” His words were clipped.

“And you know nothing of my friendship with Fandral,” Eira retorted.

“Oh, please, Eira. You spent months alone together on Vanaheim and you expect me to believe there is nothing more than a friendship there? Look how familiar he is with your son!” Loki raised his voice and pointed toward the balcony.

“Our son. He is familiar with our son. Leif is yours too, Loki. And yes, I do expect you to believe there was nothing more than a friendship between Fandral and I when were on Vanaheim. Because that’s the truth!” Eira protested.

“And now? I notice you did use the past tense. Do you now warm his bed?” Loki demanded.

“What happens between me and any other man in Asgard, Midgard or Vanaheim is none of your concern!” Eira spat back, tears filling her eyes. “You deserted me, Loki. You don’t get to return home and act like the husband cuckolded. Particularly not when you have some whore on Jotunheim whelping bastards for you!”

Loki slapped her. It connected with such force that her ears rang. Eira’s eyes widened and she drew in a deep breath and pointed at the door. “Go.”

“I’m not finished speaking with you, wife.” Loki crossed his arms and set his jaw.

“Go. Now. I may no longer be a Valkyrie, but as this will not be a battlefield death for you, that is of no concern. Leave my sight and do not return. If you do, if you seek out Leif, or me for any reason,” Eira paused. “I will kill you with my bare hands. Be gone from my sight, Loki Odinsson. I will never see you before me again.”

Loki saw the swirl of her magic around her and flinched, just barely. She noticed it too, and despite her exhaustion from healing on Midgard, she gathered the strands of magic to her. “I relinquish and withdraw any protection I have offered you. I take my essence back, no longer allowing it to mingle with yours. I curse you. I curse you with the inability to ever hurt a woman again, whether by word, deed or thought.”

Loki felt Eira’s protective spell pulling from his skin, a thousand needles prickling at him. “I should curse you, Eira. To never love as you loved me.”

“I never will love another like I loved you, Loki. There will never be another who will deceive me to gain my love. There will never be another who will betray my trust in the name of love. From this day forth, any man who casts his fancy in my direction, should he not be of noble intent, I will know. I will know, and he will regret it.” Eira pointed at the door. “Be gone from my sight. Your monster and her spawn await you in Jotunheim.”  
Loki turned on his heel and stalked out the door, slamming it with a show of force to remind Eira that she was not to only one capable using magic. Eira stared at the door, shaking. She didn’t even notice the tears until she collapsed, sobbing, to the floor, finally understanding that Loki was gone from her life.

XXX

Fandral pushed the door open gently, and saw Eira sleeping on the bed. He settled Leif for a nap, and sat on the edge of Eira’s bed. Her face was red and mottled, her eyes swollen. Fandral had heard most of the fight from the garden, and had seen Loki storm away from the palace, riding his black stallion with reckless speed. He smoothed the hair on Eira’s face away and dipped his head to kiss her cheek.

“Eira, come. Wash your face, love,” he prompted. Eira sat up, dazed. She looked to the balcony and noted where the light was hitting the floor.

“It is evening. Fandral, you should have brought me Leif sooner,” she admonished him, and scuttled to the edge of the bed. Fandral laid a hand on hers and shook his head.

“You needed some time. Leif is too young yet to understand what just happened. He would have only seen his mother hurting, and he would have hurt too,” he traced his hand down her cheek, unable to stop touching her, reassuring himself that she was unharmed. He saw the discolouration starting on her cheek and stiffened. “I did not realize he struck you.” 

“It is over. Truly. It no longer matters.” Eira shook her head. Fandral’s hand dropped from her face. Eira took his hands in hers. “Fandral, I must be completely freed of Loki before we can –“

“Eira, I love you. As long as it may take, I will wait,” he nodded.

“But –“

“Eira,” he interrupted. “I want to raise sons. And daughters. I want to grow old and see my family stretch before me. I want to make love under the night sky. But I don’t want those things if they aren’t with you. So as long as it may take, Eira Sigbjornsdottir, I will wait. You are the weft in my life’s tapestry.”

Eira leaned forward and kissed him. His hands slid up to cup her face. “I know what I must do,” she murmured against his mouth before pulling him against her, and drawing him down to the mattress.

XXX

Eira strode into court in her finest outfit, the coronet signifying she was a princess of Asgard glittering against her hair. She bowed deeply before the throne and awaited Odin’s leave to speak.

“Eira, daughter. What brings you with such formality into my court?” Odin asked. Eira rose and looked up at Odin on his throne.

“I have business before you, Allfather.” Her hands shook. Frigga stepped forward to stand beside Odin. Thor rose from where he’d been seated and stepped around to the base of the throne.

“By all means, daughter, proceed,” Odin nodded. 

“My son needs a father,” Eira started. “As Loki has disowned him, I feel it is only right to remarry, to give him legitimacy.”

“Regardless of whether Loki recognizes my grandson, Leif is legitimate, and is an heir to the throne of Asgard,” Odin offered.

“And I appreciate that, Allfather. And were it only for Leif’s benefit, I would feel no need to seek another. But I have found love again,” Eira met Odin’s gaze briefly, and then glanced down at her feet. She took a deep breath and looked back to Odin. 

“This warms my heart, Eira, but hardly calls for discussion in court.” Odin’s tone was gruff.

“I feel it is necessary, and would ask that you trust my judgment.” Eira heard a murmur go through the crowd. Royal engagements were only announced after the contract had been made, and she could hear speculation about from where the suit for her hand had come. More than a few times, she heard Thor’s name whispered. Thor stood a little straighter, his shoulders puffing up.

“Go ahead then, child,” Odin nodded. Eira stepped toward the throne, knelt, and removed her coronet.

“I relinquish my title as princess of Asgard.” She placed the coronet on the step leading to the throne. There was a startled gasp from around the room. “I cannot be free to wed another when I carry a title only deserving of the wife of the prince.”

Thor looked more confused. “I accept your abdication, Eira,” Odin nodded. Frigga linked arms with him in support. “Let it be known that Eira Sigbjornsdottir has served the house of Odin well, and is being relieved of the duties of princess with full honour.” His voice boomed across court. Frigga stepped forward, and down the dais until she was face to face with Eira.

“And you have found another, who will treat you with honour, who will raise Leif as the prince he is, and always respect the bond of Leif’s family?” Frigga asked. Thor cleared his throat, and looked expectantly at Eira.

“I will,” Eira hedged. She had been bound publically once before, and did not wish to repeat the scene or extravagance of another court wedding. Frigga smiled gently.

“When you and Fandral chose a date, please be sure to invite us,” she squeezed Eira’s hand. Eira nodded and looked back to Odin. She bowed again.

“If it please you, Allfather, I would be excused from court. I have a great deal to organize so that I may move from the palace,” Eira said. Odin stood.

“There is a longhouse on the shores of the lake near your mother. It had been maintained as a royal retreat for generations, but I cannot recall ever visiting it myself. Have you, Frigga?” Odin asked.

“None of us have ever used it,” Frigga agreed. 

“Eira Sigbjornsdottir, I deed to you the longhouse as Leif’s birthright. Raise me a prince I can be proud of.” Odin’s tone was gentler than Eira was used to, and she nodded. “You have my leave.”

“Thank you, Allfather,” she spoke as she bowed. She turned on her heel and walked through the great hall until she reached the doors. She pushed through them without looking back.


	14. Chapter 14

The longhouse was on the shores of the lake near Halla’s home. Eira opened the door and watched as the sun poured in, lighting up the dust motes in the air. It was clean and in good repair, somewhere between Halla’s estate and the great palace of Asgard in both beauty and function. The large hearth would accommodate preparation of meals at the same time as medicines, without the risk of cross-contamination. There was a large garden in the back, with plenty of space to expand. 

Eira looked around in satisfaction. There were already partitions up, making private areas, and a completely walled off room in the back turned out to be a library the overlooked the garden. Leif found suspiciously new looking wooden box near the hearth and pulled out a dragon on a string, squealing with delight.

The house had been cleaned, and refurnished, and very obviously made ready. Odin and Frigga had both approached her at different times as she readied to leave the palace, asking her to reconsider her decision to relinquish her title. Both times, she had been firm, but gentle about her need to move on. She hadn’t yet seen Thor, but was anticipating an awkward visit at some point in the near future. She hoped she would at least be somewhat settled.

XXX

The garden was beautiful, and reminded her so much of her mother’s that she immediately took to spending most of her time in it. Halla had arrived on the second day in the longhouse with a veritable mountain of transplants to put into the garden. Most of Eira’s Midgardian healing garden had been split and now the plants were resting, taking in the sun and sending their roots into the rich new earth.

Leif had decided that rocks were again his friends and was building a considerable wall on the far side of the garden. Eira could not distract him from his labour, and truthfully did not seek to. He was growing larger with every day and he was pleased to develop his strength, as any young warrior should be. They were settling into a routine quite well. Which was why it came as no surprise when Thor rode up the path.

Eira dipped into a low curtsey as he dismounted and from the corner of her eye, she could see him shaking his head.

“Rise, Eira,” he demanded, taking her hand in his.

“Yes, Highness,” she acquiesced, standing. She spared a glance at Leif and saw that he was far too busy with his rock cairn to be bothered with the adults. Thor smiled. It was warm and softened his handsome features.

“Eira, you are never to call me by title again. I will always and evermore merely be Thor,” he ordered.

“As long as you continue to give me orders, Highness, I will respect your title,” Eira chided him. Thor flushed and took both her hands in his.

“I apologize. It would please me greatly if we could dispense with formality when we are together, Eira. I did not intend to make demands.” His apology was sincere.

“In that case, Thor, I will grant your request,” she smiled. “You must give the Allfather my thanks. This is more than I could have wished for, Thor.”

Thor looked around the garden and across to Leif. He took in the longhouse and the view from the hilltop, across Halla’s lands and down over the realm eternal. “It is beautiful here. And you look well. As though your burdens are lighter.”

“I am truly freed, Thor,” Eira agreed. “Leif is thriving. I feel stronger for having my hands in the dirt.”

“You’ve been to Midgard to heal, Heimdall tells me,” he prompted.

“And Vanaheim, at Freya’s request,” she nodded. There was a comfortable silence between them as Thor was distracted by Leif’s busy work. He turned back to her.

“Eira, you must know why I am here,” Thor began.

“I would not presume.” Eira’s voice was barely a whisper.

“My fondness for you has never been false, Eira. You were right to suggest I did not love you when we were courting, but I believe it is the closest I have ever been to love,” he spoke slowly, but with urgency. “When you came to the palace, I was implored, by my mother, and my friends, to make amends with you. And it was then that I truly began to see the remarkable woman you are.”

“You are far too kind –“

“Please, I have been practicing this for days, and do not want to miss any of the words,” he interrupted. “I know, in my heart, that I love you. I cannot promise you that it is romantic love right now. I would not presume to force my affection on you to find out. But I believe I can offer you a life, Eira, where you would be cherished, and loved. Your son would be cared for, and adored. If there is no hope that you could love me in return, please. Tell me, and I will never speak of it again.”

“I cannot speak of the future in terms of absolutes, Thor. But it would not be fair or kind of me to string you along with the hope I may someday love you in return. You are going to be king of Asgard. It would not do for you to have a woman beside you who does not love you with every fibre of her self. Loki would always be a spectre between us.” She raised her hand to his cheek. He blinked slowly, and then nodded, bringing his own hands to either side of her face. He tipped his head and kissed her forehead.

“And there is someone else, I think.” He glanced to the path up the hill, nodding at the cloud of dust approaching.

“Yes,” Eira nodded. Thor pulled away, dropping his hands to his sides.

“I would deliver a message from the Allfather. Tis a reminder,” he said, pulling a small page from his bracer. He unrolled it and cleared his throat. “Eira Sigbjornsdottir, you have relinquished your title, and any claim you may have to Asgard’s throne, but you will ever be a daughter of the Allfather, named as a goddess, and sister of the twelve.”

Eira gasped as a pain knifed her back. “What –“

“The Allfather has restored to you your place in the Valkyries,” Thor explained, catching her as she crumpled in pain. He held the slip of parchment above her and continued to read, “It is the twilight of the Valkyries, Eira, and I do not expect your duties to Midgard to carry on much longer. As such, I offer you the best of both worlds. You will return to your duty as Valkyrie, but you may court and wed as you wish. I only ask that you present yourself to court before you take your vows, that I, as your foster father, may ensure your betrothed is worthy of a woman as remarkable and unique as you.”

Eira clung to Thor, the pain in her back so intense she was seeing spots before her eyes. Thor lowered her to the ground, and Leif rushed to her side, flinging himself into her arms.

“Mama!” He burrowed under one of her arms, and kissed her tear-stained cheek. A dull groan, followed by the sound of linen tearing, came from Eira as Fandral rode into the yard. His eyes widened as he took in the scene in front of him. Eira was lying on her side; her back split open, broad white wings bulging against the straining linen across her back, blood staining the deformity. Fandral skidded to her side on his knees. He pulled a dagger from his boot and helped the fabric to pull free from her back with a few handy flicks of his wrist. Eira’s wings pressed out, through torn skin and fabric. The white of her feathers was tinged red with blood in places, and flopped wetly into Fandral’s lap.

Thor’s gaze me Fandral’s.

“Father did not warn me –“

“He likely did not know, Thor. When was the last time a woman full grown was called?” Fandral interrupted. “Go to the house and bring me her healing basket. There is a foul smelling unguent that will soothe the pain where the skin has torn.” 

Thor scrambled to his feet and ran into the house while Fandral assessed Eira’s back. The tears in the skin were jagged, but the tissue was clean. He shook his head, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Leif staring at him intently across Eira’s back, his small, dirty face streaked with tears. He watched as a tear snaked its way down Leif’s face and splashed onto the open wound in Eira’s back, causing Eira to flinch. 

“Sweet boy, come lay your head on my lap, while I soothe your mama’s wounds. I will need your strong hands to help me,” he whispered and patted his knee. Leif scuttled around Eira’s feet and slipped his head under Fandral’s arm. Another drop splashed onto Eira’s back and Fandral realized he was also weeping over Eira’s pain. Eira let out a low moan and her back heaved with a deep breath. Thor returned, the small pot of goo uncovered.

Fandral took a deep bracing breath and dipped his fingers into the unguent.

“I’m sorry, my heart, this might hurt,” he apologized as he brought his fingers against the torn flesh. Eira drew in a sharp breath, but did not cry out. Thor took her hands in his, and Fandral saw her knuckles whiten as she squeezed them, Thor flinching against the strength of the gesture. Fandral’s touch was gentle, and he drew his fingers along all the areas where the skin was broken, but at the juncture of the wings, he could not quite reach. “Leif, my boy, this is the part where you must be brave and strong for your mama, and help me treat her wounds.”

Leif nodded solemnly, and listened as Fandral explained, using small words and gestures, what he needed Leif to do. Leif took a blob of the smelly good and carefully, using his pudgy toddler’s fingers, smeared the unguent around the areas that Fandral’s larger hand could not reach. When he was done, he leaned down and kissed the feathers of each wing near the wound.

“Leif make it better, Mama,” he cooed, clearly mimicking what Eira herself said to him every time she treated his wounds.

“I will leave you to tend her, and go speak with Father about this horror.” Thor excused himself. He walked a short distance and then turned to look on his friend tending Eira. “How long have you loved her, Fandral? And never said a word?”

Fandral looked over his shoulder. “It is a long story, and one best told over strong ale.”

“Why do you suppose we can both see her wings?” Thor pondered before turning away. “Only the dying can see the wings of a Valkyrie.”

“She has saved us both, Thor. Regardless of whether you recall it, you have already seen her wings once,” Fandral explained.

“They are imposing. And stark in their beauty,” the prince observed. “Father would like to approve your suit before you wed, Fandral. I am sure there will be no protest, but bring her to court as soon as she is well. I would dance at your wedding before the winter snows hit Midgard.”

Fandral laughed. “There is no guarantee she will accept my proposal, Thor.”

“She would be foolish to decline you.”

“She may not want to remarry. I am content to be her mate without ritual to bind us.” Fandral shrugged.

“My nephew deserves a father.” Thor’s tone was filled with warning. Fandral smiled, his mouth tilting up at one side.

“I will leave that up to his mother to decide,” Fandral allowed. Thor nodded and turned back to his horse. Fandral looked down at the boy in question and ruffled his hair. “Come, Leif. Run inside and turn down the blankets on Mama’s bed, and I will carry her in so she may rest.” Leif scampered into the longhouse to do as was bid, and Fandral scooped Eira in his arms with little effort.

“You are too good for me,” Eira murmured, slipping her hand up on to his cheek.

“The shieldmaiden of Valhalla deserves much better than me, Eira. The Goddess of healing deserves a god,” Fandral argued.

“You can be the god of true love then, Fandral,” she mumbled, and leaned her head against his chest. 

XXX

“Her wings will retract once the skin has healed,” Brynhildr reassured Fandral as they sat beside the bed. Eira had been sleeping, on and off, for days, and Fandral had been relieved when Bryn had shown up after hearing the rumour of Eira’s restoration. According to the Valkyrie, all of Asgard knew of it, although the details were fuzzy. Someone had overheard Thor speaking with Odin, and it had taken less than a day for the story to become fantastic and ridiculous.

“Are you sure?” Fandral was concerned. While Eira slept, her wings would occasionally flap, beating against her back, and reopening the fragile skin around them. 

“Yes. Hrist had a wing severed once, hundreds of years ago. It grew back over the course of a few weeks. She was awkward and lopsided, with a single wing hanging limply for all the realms to see until it was fully healed. And then it slipped away, only to be seen by the dying.” Bryn placed a hand on Fandral’s shoulder to comfort him. He looked exhausted, as though he hadn’t been sleeping. “How fares Leif?”

“He slips under her left wing to sleep at night. Even when she is so restful I feel I need to count her breathing, her wing wraps around him and cradles him as he sleeps,” Fandral sighed deeply.

“Good. He needs the affirmation that his mother is not dying,” Bryn nodded. “And how fares Fandral? You look exhausted.”

“I don’t know that I’ve slept much. I’ve been too focused on minding her wounds, and feeling her,” he admitted.

“You must rest. Let me watch over her while you get some sleep, Fandral.” Bryn pointed to Leif’s small cot, banishing the large man. He didn’t even argue, but stepped over and curled up on the tiny mattress. He was snoring in minutes. Eira roused briefly and looked at Bryn. She smiled and tried to sit up, but Bryn held a hand out to still her.

“Your son is nestled in the warmth of your wings, and your lover sleeps for the first time in days. Shhh.” Bryn held a finger to her lips. Eira laid back against her pillows and smiled.

“He is hardly my lover,” she protested.

“He has not left your side, Eira,” Bryn noted. “I felt your call. I wasn’t sure what it was until the rumours got to us. Við erum heil á ný, litla syster.”

“Það er vel,” Eira nodded, her eyes closed. Bryn slipped her hand into Eira’s and watched over her as she slept.


End file.
